Thirteen
by jakey121
Summary: The number thirteen has always been regarded as unlucky, and this year is the 13th Hunger Games. Lives will be lost, blood will be spilt and innocent children will die ... all in the name of entertainment. This is a 24 author collaboration, 23 of us will leave with nothing but the distant memory of our beloved tribute, and one will depart with their tribute as Victor! DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

**THIRTEEN**

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**A/N- Hey everyone, this is the beginning of what I hope is going to be an amazing 24 author collaboration!:D I have never done one of these, but I have some great authors so far and some great tributes so I'm sure it will work really well. Anyway this is just the prologue, I needed to write one so the story was allowed, so the first chapter wasn't just a long author's note. Anyway I hope you enjoy this prologue, and I hope you enjoy the actually story when it begins!:D**

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It's everywhere.

I can't escape ... the ash, the darkness, the pain of running towards the unknown.

It's the finale I know that much, the Gamemakers always have something special planned to give the Capitol a real treat, this has never happened before. The main mountain of this Arena just erupted, and through the darkness the faint blink of a bright orange glow tells me the lava is swiftly moving down the mountain edge.

How many tributes are still left? How many have I killed?

The Hunger Games, this blasted event is nothing like I pictured. I watched ever since the first one was broadcasted across Panem, I watched with a smile on my face and I trained from that moment on. On the 12th reaping I finally volunteered, knowing I could do this, knowing how fun it would be.

And then the bloodbath began ...

It was carnage, pure destruction everywhere. Tributes fell one by one, blades in their guts, arrows in their heads. It was the biggest bloodbath so far in the history of the Games. Fifteen died, leaving nine left. Seeing all that blood, all those dead innocent children changed me ... it's not right, and even now as I run through the trees without any clue of where I'm headed, I regret ever running to that stage and volunteering. I don't know what the heck was going through my mind, what sick thought pushed me to doing this. I just hope I can win and go home to make up for everything I've done in this Arena.

Out of the nine that survived, I was the only Career, I don't know how that is even possible but all the others died. After a week passed, four of the other eight were struck down by me and one other was killed by someone else. Now it's just us remaining four, running from the flowing lava and whatever else the Gamemakers have come up with.

I don't know who the other four are, I haven't been keeping track, but to survive a bloodbath of that level of brutality they must be skilled.

A branch snags my cheek and the sharp stinging pain causes a few tears to spring from my eyes. I wipe them away with the back of my dirty left hand and carry on sprinting through this dark, eerie forest. The noises here make this whole thing even worse, everything sounds dangerous yet no mutts have actually appeared. The birds sound like the mutts from last year that ripped you apart with their claws, the growls and ruffling of bushes makes you on edge, like something is about to pounce but it never does.

All I have to worry about right now is running, running from this lava and getting to safety.

BOOM

Three left ... I'm nearly there. Having survived the bloodbath and everything else that has gone on I think I can do this. No ... I know I can do this. I trained, the other two didn't. If it comes to a fight between us, I'll win. I don't want to have to kill them, striking down so many has left a mark inside, yet if I hope to return I need to kill the other two if this lava doesn't get them first.

"Well done to you remaining three, keep up the good work!" The announcer's voice nearly makes me topple over, but I remain focused and maintain my pace through the trees. I quickly peek a glance over my shoulder, the lava is still quite far away which is good.

I've journeyed around the entire Arena over the course of these Games so I should know my way around, yet the darkness doesn't help, I can't identify anything here.

BOOM

This is it ... the final two ...

Secretly I'm curious as to who my final opponent is, I hope they're weak yet I know it's unrealistic. To survive all this way they must be tough. I'm not really looking forward to a fight, but I can see that slowly the sun is rising and the sounds of the lava rushing towards me softens until when I glance over my shoulder I see that it's finally gone.

And then I see him ... standing outside the Cornucopia, surrounded by the bed of flowers where our plates were at the start. He looks tired, his face is covered in ash and his clothes are torn. A sword hangs by his side, but he doesn't seem to have the strength to rise it up and over his head to charge at me. I think this is the District Twelve boy, Ashley or something but I can't quite tell.

"Glitter ... just do it quickly." His voice makes me jump, if anything I didn't except him to talk as I advance towards him. He wants me to kill him ... I can do this ... can't I?

"Please, I've seen my best friend murdered, I've seen my only ally smothered in ash and suffocate, please just kill me and win." He drops his sword, gets on his knees and gazes into my eyes as I edge closer to him.

"Are you sure? I know your District partner was your friend, don't you want to fight in her memory?" I don't know why I'm saying this, I don't want to fight but I feel sympathy for this boy, he's faced so much and he's only fourteen.

"Yes, I have no family, I want to be with her again." He bows his head and I can hear that he has begun to cry. Slowly I edge so close to him that I can see the tears falling from his cheeks, I pull out my sword and raise it above his neck. I'm going to win ... I really am ...

"I'm sorry, I really am."

"You know you aren't like the other Careers. You were to begin with but you've learnt the error of your ways. For once I'm glad a Career is winning ... well done Glitter."

With tears filling the sides of my eyes I bring the sword down on his neck and fall to my knees as his cannon sounds ...

I won ... I actually won ...

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"Glitter dear, wake up sweetie."

My eyes slowly flutter open, instantly the smell of bacon frying hits me and saliva fills my mouth. I sit up from my bed and rub my eyes ... once again I've dreamt about my Games. I wish I could just let go, I want to let go so much so I can move on with my life, but the District Twelve boy and all the others that died just won't leave my thoughts.

I rub my temple and sit up from my bed. At the doorway my mother is staring at me with the usual grin on her face.

"Had another bad dream?"

"Yes, I always do." I groan and stand up, putting my feet in my slippers and wrapping my dressing gown round my pyjamas. I hear my mother sigh as I pass her and her warm hand strokes my cheek but I push past and head downstairs. Our house in the Victor's Village is definitely very large, much larger than the house we had before. We were rich, but now we are so rich that we have no worries left, I no longer train anymore because I don't need to and even if I did I wouldn't want to. Mother and father quit their jobs so they could both be with me and my baby brother Blue. He's the sweetest little guy ever, when he giggles I can't help but laugh along with him. I dread the day he faces the reaping like everyone else, but thank god we live in this District. If, god forbid, his name is pulled out from that bowl when it's his time, someone will volunteer, I just know it.

Mother and father were never supportive of my strict training regime when I was so naive that I wanted to participate in the Games. I'm thankful for this, because Blue will not gain the sick thoughts of wanting to be a tribute when he comes of age. Our family is better off now I've won, a part of me is glad that I did volunteer and that I became a victor. I won't ever escape the horrors of what went on in the confines of the Arena, the Bloodbath is something that will be engraved in my memory forever, but there is still hope that one day the Hunger Games will disappear forever, a distant nightmare for us to look back on.

Not for me, not for Blue, but for all the children that have been killed in the name of entertainment these past twelve years. For everyone that will die in the future because of The Hunger Games and the Capitol's corruption. Even for those Victors who face a life of hell because of what they went through. Not everyone comes out perfect, not everyone returns with a smile and a promise to carry on with their lives ... there are those, and those still to come who are broken, the Hunger Games claims twenty-four victims each year, one may survive ... but truly they are dead inside ... I know I am, life may seem alright. But when my eyes close, hell reigns in my mind and that's just like being dead. Just like going back to the that awful bloodbath and joining the bodies on the ground.

And this year ... well this year is the thirteenth Hunger Games. Tomorrow twenty four more tributes will be selected, some volunteering others being chosen even though they are innocent and do not deserve such an experience.

Thirteenth ... the number thirteen has always been regarded as unlucky.

I pity the tributes for this year ... hell will truly be experienced for these twenty four. I guarantee the thirteenth Hunger Games will be remembered. Forever.

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**A/N- So what did you think? Leave a review with your thoughts, receiving reviews means everything!:D Thank you all **

**xx**


	2. District One Reapings

**A/N- **Hey everyone and welcome to the official start of Thirteen. I am extremely excited to now start things up with this first reaping and I'm sure I speak for these two brilliant authors when I say that they would appreciate your wonderful reviews. We have some great authors working to make this story as great as we all hope it will turn out to be and trust me, they all are 100% brilliant.

So anyway, I'm jakey121 (or Jake, I don't mind people knowing my first name since it's kind of obvious what it is) and I am the head moderator of this whole thing ... I am delighted to present to you the list of our talented authors and most of all the District One reaping.

**Authors (no particular order): **hiilikepie1937462, NinjaNakkiOfCabin11, ImmyRose, Katnissfire87654, d11olive-13, jakey121 (me!), Acereader55, TheOnlyUltimateGinger, iloverueforever, newbie11, pinkgirraffe10, TWilkins, i-am-foxface, Cashmere67, Blue Eyes Arch Angel, Magicbl00d, DA Member Hogwarts, Ginga-in-Ravenclaw, InSaNeAnNiE, Mist16, Bitter Sweeet Lullaby, Irisismyname, TeamKatniss4Ever and Bluebird1125

Oh and I would also like to introduce you all to my fellow moderator, my co-moderator if you were, the brilliant Acereader55 who is also a fellow author of Thirteen. He wanted me to just put this authors note for you all to read, don't worry it isn't some long note just rambling on like I am at the moment ;)

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**Acereader55 A/N-** Hi everyone, I'm the co-moderator for Thirteen, just to let you know when Jake can't be here then feel free to PM me with any questions you might have :)

So enough of me talking ... let's kick this whole thing off with TWilkins and Cashmere67! :D

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**TWilkins A/N-Hey, this is Zeo, my tribute, and I hope the chapter is okay because truthfully this is the first time I have ever written in the present tense, I always use past. The song is an adapted version of the power rangers ninja storm theme tune btw XD just in case you were wondering. So, I hope you enjoy the chapter and please oh please, leave a review. And if you really like it then feel free to PM me and praise my writing skills. XD hehe. Thank you and enjoy.**

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**Zeo Radonix, District One Male**

_**TWilkins**_

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I am going to be honest. I want to scream. I have had my fair share of gigs, but the quaint little clubs and bars of district one were nothing compared to where I am now. Paradise. It feels absolutely mesmerising, and utterly fantastic. In fact, I can think of nowhere better to be than this place, here, right now. Okay, it could be better. I mean the sweat under my armpits was just too gross, and I can actually feel my hair stuck to my forehead, it was just so bad. But I guess under the flashing strobe lights of like, two hundred different colours it was hardly visible. I had a few seconds to relax. I glance to my left, and saw two of my backup dancers, Kylie and Madonna. Both of them were wearing the golden dresses that had been made especially for this event, the golden dresses shipped from district eight, adorned with flakes of actual gold that caught the light with every single shimmer that they did, splitting a ray of colour into a beautiful spectrum. By the looks of things they weren't even half as sweaty as I am, which really wasn't fair, I mean, just because they are girls doesn't mean they shouldn't sweat as much as a guy. Firing a glance to my left, I catch the sight of my other two girls, Beyoncé and Cheryl. Well Beyoncé was a little glistening, but nowhere near as sweaty and flustered as I am. I wonder why, I mean, they do all the dancing, and I just stand still. Maybe it is the little skirts they are wearing, I mean, it's a good thing that they have been keeping themselves trimmed down there.

The sudden strain on my eyes told me that the lights are back on me, so I lift the microphone to my mouth, and speak, whilst attempting to not show how utterly exhausted I am.

"You like that one district one?" I shout at the swarm of beings in front of me, though the question is totally rhetorical. I know that they love it. Though, the following uproar of teenage shouts from the majority of the crowd, the cheers from my mates, the squeals from the girls that clearly fancied me, accompanied my shouts of 'I love you Zeo!" from the ones who were a little more bold about it. That was most, but there were still a few others in the crowd who were silent, who I had picked out, it was easy to see the gaps in the waving hands during a slower song. And even more, who wolf whistled me, who are all boys I am sure, maybe they are joking. Maybe they aren't. But that doesn't matter to me. Because I am Zeo Radonix. Brother of Crash Radonix, winner of the eighth hunger games. Pop star of district one. And soon to be winner of the thirteenth hunger games.

"Are you ready for this!" I shout again, leaning forwards towards the crowd, almost being knocked back by the collective roar of approval, before I got ready and waited for the music of the next song. This was a personal composition, one I had written specially for this night, the night before the reaping. I felt blessed by the cool when the lights go out, but I know that it is going to be painfully temporary. I am annoyingly correct, and seconds later, music blares, and lights of electric blue and vibrant yellow begin dancing around me, signalling the dancers to burst into movement and explode into their routine, as if captivated by the light and music combination.

A smile purses at my lips as I get to the starting line, which I didn't need to think about, because it was natural. According to Crash I sing it in my sleep. Speaking of my big oath of a brother, I noticed that he had not attended, though that was nothing of a shock to me. He had promised to come, but I expect he is home with mother and father, who were fawning over their favourite son. A position that was rightfully mine. I get the good grades. I have the talent of singing. I am the handsome one. I am the popular one. He is dumb, ugly and unpopular. But a victor. And that was it for my position as favourite. Now I have to get it back.

_"Before the reaping, before the rush"_ I yell, almost angrily, though it doesn't matter an overly large amount, because it is a fairly aggressive line, and it drives the crowd crazy.

_"Let's go!"_ The backup voice rings out, which makes me smile, because the backup voice just has that slightly electric, almost robotic tone to it.

_"The storm is on,_

_"and the Force is Getting Strong,_

_"You'll Have to Brave the Weather,_

_"In the Storm you'll Stand Together."_

I begin, feeling the crowd's cheers uplift me somewhat, making me smile with the pure joy of the vibe that is echoing through the stadium, which had cost me a fair bit to rent the night before the reaping, but I stole my brother's money. Out of the corner of my eye I even notice a couple of peacekeepers bop along to the music, which made me smile all the more, because if the peacekeepers are enjoying themselves, everyone is.

_"The Storm will Grow,_

_"The Waters Flow,_

_"Soon the reaping will be on!_

_"And the reaping rush of nerves is Growing_

_"Is Growing!_

_"It's Growing!"_

The vibe is incredible; I swear to god someone with synesthesia would be almost going mad right now because of how much light that they could see from all the noise going on. I am sure even district two would be able to hear what is going on. District two… The threats of the games. One of them but a knife through Crash's back in his game, but missed his heart totally, and then he killed them. But the knife went clean through, and Crash has a lot of muscle, not a lot as in he is fit, just really big. I need to keep my eyes open and stay alert… But right now, I need to focus on my song.

_"Before the reaping, before the rush, Lets go!_

_"With the Speed of the Wind (Let's Go!)_

_"And Strength like Thunder (Let's Go!)"_

It is nearing the finale now, and I know that the lights are about to go crazy, and I know that it is going to make me really dizzy. As I predicted the swirling lights of yellow and blue cascade into a miasma of bright light. I don't even know what colour it is; it is little more than a big blinding flood of colour. But I keep on singing; any professional would refuse to be put off, though I think Beyoncé stumbled.

_"Before the reaping, before the rush (Lets go!)_

_"Before the reaping, before the rush (Lets go!)_

_"Before the reaping, before the rush (Lets go!)_

_"Before the reaping, before the rush (Lets go!)"_

I finish with a violent air punch, the dancers spiralling around me come to a stop with their hands somewhere on my chest. The lights cut and a huge cannon is let off, mimicking that of the infamous cannons of the games. Though its purpose is a little more benevolent, launching out a huge amount of confetti. This makes the audience go utterly wild, and from that second onwards, I know that there is going to be an after party to remember, or, not to, in the case of most. But I am going to stay sober. Tomorrow is important, and I do not want to have a migraine. I have an impression to make.

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The alarm blares out loudly, and fills the room with the demonic sound that only an alarm could muster. It echoes off of the walls and ricochets through the air, cutting the silence that the bliss of sleep grants. I let out the manliest noise that has ever passed my lips, in the form of a grunt, my eyes stirring slightly. Sleep was so blissful, so pure, that I found there is never a nice way to wake up, and the hang over I am in defiantly isn't helping. My mission of keeping my sobriety was not entirely successful. In fact I had drunk a lot, more than I had ever drunk before. But luckily, I threw up when I was walking home, which got most of it out of my system, if I hadn't I don't think I would be able to stand. I let myself lounge in my comfortable bed for a moment longer, taking in the pure luxury of the silk sheets and pillows, smiling at the comfort, silently thanking Crash for his vicotory, though when I won, I could get a king size bed all to myself... I then hoist myself out of the bed, sit up and take a glance around the room before I swing myself out of the comfortable bed and my feet delicately mulch into the thick carpet that decorates the floor, as I stand, stretching my limbs until the joints pop, signalling that I was ready to move. I then stride forward towards my en-suite, waltzing across my bedroom in all my glory, due to the fact I found it utterly incomprehensible to sleep with any form of clothing on. The idea seems appalling. The bathroom was blissfully cool and I smile as I walk into it, before I step into the walk-in shower, where I turn it on before I step into the water itself, checking that the temperature is hot enough for me. The overhead shower head flows instantly, being hot enough for me, as my asbestos skin, as my brother called it, seems to not really mind being scolded. With a smile I step into the water, blood immediately rushes to the surface of my skin at the heat, the water ruthlessly cascades over every inch of my porcelain skin. It is only moments before my whole body is soaked, and my hand instinctively reaches out for the bottle of my shampoo on a built in alcove on the wall. I then rub the substance into my shaggy, blonde and black hair, now totally black from saturation.

I follow my hair with my body and reach for the sponge on the alcove, lathering it with some shower gel, and washing myself, then grabbing my toothbrush and giving my teeth a thorough scrub before I finally turn the shower off, stepping out to get a soft cotton towel and slinging it around my waist, before I grab a second and sling it over my head. Then I start to rub my wet hair, though I make sure to be very careful, because if my hair becomes statically charged I may not be able to get it okay for the reaping, which is in two hours. It pains me that the reaping is so early, because eight-o-clock in the morning was an awful time to need to get up, especially after the night I have just had. It was intense. And even getting up at this time leaves me with a mere hour and a half with which to get ready, to get to the reaping for ten. With a smile I finish with my hair, before reaching for a tub of gel to apply to it. I rub the substance through my hands with vigour, before I rake my fingers through my hair, moving it up to give me that look that was just insanely sexy. I finish my style soon, being well rehearsed at doing it, as it was a relatively common procedure for me, before hanging both towels on the rack and heading to my wardrobe back inside my bedroom.

I open the solid oak doors with a powerful tug and root around inside for the clothes I want. My eyes flick through my clothes with precision, and I study each outfit I could wear with detail, before moving on. I find a rather fetching black suit and tie, which would be very nice to wear.

"Won't stand out enough in that." I mumble to myself, flicking through to the next outfit after study of the suit, which is a pair of leather trousers, and jacket, with a shirt underneath that was also skin tight.

"No I'll chafe walking to the stage." I comment again, flicking through a couple more outfits, coming to a pair of electric blue denim jeans, with a bright yellow top that is so bright it actually makes me feel like squinting.

"I'll stand out too much…" I mumble, moving it along, wondering when I actually bought the top, because I sure as hell won't be wearing it anytime soon. The next five minutes are spent looking through outfits that I can use, and eventually, I realise that I can't find anything that is quite good enough for the occasion, so I simply chose to use my favourite outfit. A dark pink shirt with black buttons, only the middle of which is done up, leaving my navel and chest on a relatively open display. I then take a pair of black skinny jeans and slide them up my hairless legs, before I pull them down again in realisation that I still haven't put on any underwear. I root through my draw and pull out a pair of white boxers with a waistband that is covered in yellow smiley faces of different sizes, and then slip my feet through the holes in them and pull them up. I then go back to my jeans and pull them up, giving them a swift tug to get them over my hips, settling them so that the smiley face waistband will be on show, good vibes and all that. My finishing touch is a crimson scarf that I have brought recently, which was rather nice, and it contrasts well with my mysterious green eyes. That was one part of me that isn't pretty, my eyes. They are too sharp and harsh to be considered pretty, but they make my face look much more mysterious, and they are pretty sexy to be honest. All of me is.

"Zeo!" The harrowing screech of my mother's harsh, wailing voice sounds out, making me jump and curse. "Breakfast!" And that was all I got. No good morning, no how are you, no sleep well. Not even a comment about the reaping. It is as if I am not their son anymore. This is exactly how they treated Crash before his victory… But I don't feel sorry for him. He deserved it; he is good for nothing, other than killing. And I am practically a sensation!

I scowl and move to leave the room, before I remember my tribute token, I would need one for the games wouldn't I? I fly back to my vanity and open the top draw, which contains all of the gifts from my fans, and root through it, trying to find something suitable. First thing I produce is in a plastic container, a bracelet, apparently woven from pubic hair, though I didn't believe it was actually, I keep it in the bag just in case, and there is no way I am going to be wearing something so gross on my wrist. I then continue to root through and find a small locket, with a picture of the ugliest girl I have ever seen inside. Even after multiple attempts of removing it, I was unsuccessful, which is a shame as it is a nice locket. I couldn't wear that, I didn't want the capitol thinking she is my girlfriend or something, I didn't want anyone thinking that. I filter through a couple of other items, before I find one that I like, though it does deeply puzzle me. It is a symbol of affection, but unlike the others who had sent long, cheesy love letters or pictures of a less than savoury nature, it was just a short note, very simple, with a little heart drawn at the bottom, and a simple, yet beautiful ring.

The ring is silver, with a collection of decorative markings in it, and it was brilliant. I have no idea who sent it, in fact, I think it may have been a boy, because there was no name, and all of the others left a name, from the girls who want me to be their boyfriend, to the boys who want me to hang out with them, they all had a name. Except this one. This is greatly frustrating, as I deeply want to discover who this is, because, it fascinates me. I don't know what my sexuality is, in fact I may just be pansexual, as in, gender not actually mattering to me, different to bisexual as they simply like both genders, whilst I didn't actually use gender as a factor. If I had to choose a side, I think I would be gay. Not that I have anything against girls but I just knew that I couldn't put up with however many years of shoes and make-up and god forbid, periods… The very thought makes me cringe.

I giggle lightly, and pull the ring on my finger, pleased by the perfect fit. It was clearly a professional piece. I could go and ask at all the jewellers in the district, but frankly, I don't have time, let alone how many there actually are.

"Zeo! Downstairs now!" My mother screeched again, making me scowl in rage at the noise. I swear my mother is secretly a banshee or something. Some demon or evil being.

There is another thing about me; I am fascinated by prehistoric mythology. The time before Panem. Apparently, according to scholars, it used to be called America. Unfortunately the museum of mythological artefacts is in the capitol, somewhere I can't go, yet. But I watch all of the capitol documentaries about it, and it fascinates me so much. Though I never let anybody know I like that sort of thing, I mean, what kind of popstar is a nerd? But seriously, this mythological stuff is amazing. I mean, there was some woman called Elizabeth, what a weird name, who used to rule like everything. And the capitol scholars discovered that she had a sceptre that could shoot fireballs, and she lived in a floating castle called Buckingham palace and she had two pet dragons called Corgis. It was so cool! In fact, it is actually the 'Myth of the Queen Elizabeth' that made me want to take up a staff as my token weapon for training with. Of course there are so many other myths that the capitol have discovered too…

"ZEO!" My mother screeches, actually making the house vibrate a little bit, which scares me, so before she could shout again, I left my room, quickly heading downstairs to see the fiend of a woman.

* * *

I sit at the table quietly, as my mother piles bacon and eggs onto Crash's plate, whilst I have to eat some mess of oats and water, which my mother has made. It is disgusting, not that I have actually tried the beige slop, but I know that it is awful, I could tell, I mean it looks like vomit.

"Zeo! Eat your breakfast." My mother snaps, turning her steely eyes on me, expecting me to react like a rabbit in a headlight, though I didn't, as after all, today is the last day I would have to suffer her, so I don't need to be all frail anymore. Plus, I'm a popstar, and what kind of popstar is bossed around by their parents?

"It tastes like shit." I lied, smirking at my knowledge of how much my mother despises cursing, which was why I had done it, because I want to annoy her as much as I can. I know it touches a nerve because she actually looks at me, her eyes turning cold and angry, with a particular vein just above her left eyebrow standing out like a bolt of turquoise lightning.

"What did you just say!" She spits, her face turning a delicate shade of red which makes me smile slightly, she just looks so funny when she is angry. I wonder if she will hit me? She hit Crash when I was favourite, for no reason, and I had just cursed and insulted her cooking. Two things that she is very touchy about.

"You are planning on volunteering aren't you? You selfish little brat..." Crash suddenly says, in his annoyingly monotonous voice, with his flat, cold, green stare on me, sussing out that I am going to steal his thunder… Though I will call it stealing his spark. He stands up, and gives his best attempt at intimidating me, and it would have worked had I not been his younger brother, who is much faster, agile and better skilled. Though his torso is just a bulging mess of muscle gained from too much exercise and his arms have muscles the size of my head, which is pretty intimidating in itself… I can see why some people are actually scared of him, he can probably snap my neck if he wants to, he is basically a mass of muscle. You would expect that to get him a bunch of girls, but it doesn't, because his face isn't nice, it is just really flat, and his completion is really bad, right now he has this giant white head on the side of his nose and I just want to attack it with a pair of salad tongs, it is just so big and gross. Speaking of his nose, it is far too big for his face, and it is very flat, with the giant volcano of pus on the side of it. And then there is his eyes, which are too small for his face, not to mention they are almost hidden by his giant bushy eyebrows that sit on his forehead like giant bushy black slugs. He has no sense of style; I mean his hair is like a bowl cut, it is blonde but just so greasy… It is utterly tragic… Sometimes I feel… No. I always feel ashamed of my brother, Crash is thick as a plank and totally unsociable, he is a mess. In fact, I am surprised he won his games; in fact he only won it because the district four girl fell off of a cliff. Something which is probably the funniest hunger games moment ever.

I just smile at his comment, and stand up from the table myself, before I walk off with a little bit more swag than I usually use, just to annoy them. Because of the footsteps behind me, and the loud bang, and smashing noise, I guess that Crash was following me. He is such a clumsy moron, he lives up to his name tenfold. I am at the door when he catches up to me, putting a big hand on it and keeping it shut, my muscles seem pretty feeble when compared to his.

"Don't volunteer. It isn't all glamorous and as easy as you think." He says, stumbling over a few words, he is awful with words. I look him right in the eye, and then back away on account of his breath. My god did he ever brush his teeth?

"Oh come on Crash, you just don't want me to steal your thunder." I state in reply, folding my arms across my chest in triumph, cocking my head to the side with the smirk dominating my face.

"No Zeo. I don't want to have to watch my baby brother die." He returns, and he sounds pretty sincere. At first I think he is bluffing and lying to try and coerce me into not going, but then I remember that Crash isn't actually capable of being that smart.

"Crash, how fragile do you think I am? I'm smart, fast, cunning, beautiful and popular. I'll breeze the game." I announce confidently, before giving him a shove to get him off of the door, to no avail…

"If you can get me off of this door, you can volunteer." He said absentmindedly, how dumb was he? He can't stop me volunteering, and this will just get him hurt, badly.

"Crash, you can't stop me volunteering, so move before you get hurt." I say, this time adding a slightly more venomous edge to my voice, trying to unnerve him more than intimidate him… Like a scorpion would do to an elephant.

"Prove it." He simply states, his expression falling flat, telling me he is tensing his muscles, though that didn't matter, my target is marginally smaller, and much weaker.

I sigh and swing my knee up, where it connects with his genitals rather hard. That is what he gets for being taller than me, and standing with his legs apart. He makes a noise, a kind of squeak, before he collapses to the floor clutching at his crotch. Maybe I hit him a little too hard? But he doesn't need to worry about having children anyway, apart from maybe with the locket girl, but if he did have children with her, they would need to worry, because their child would probably look like a victim of falling into the machine that turns graphite into diamond, just without the sparkle.

"See ya'" I say cheerfully, before opening the door and walking out into the… Rain. It was raining. I almost scream as I dart back into the house, in fear of my well styled hair getting wet and then going… God forbid… Frizzy. I dart over to the coat rack, and grab the umbrella that is propped up against it, my family can walk in the rain, I am the one going to the capitol. With the umbrella in hand, I take a bold and brave stride out into the street of victor's village, and begin walking off.

* * *

I scowl as I narrowly avoid falling into a rather large puddle that had settled in the location of the gates to victor's village, and was totally in the way. It is just such a miserable day, though I am looking forward to seeing the escort's make-up in the rain, I know that they always wear a lot of it. I notice Glitter, last year's winner, flitting around with something in her hallway, the windows are easy to see into. I wonder if she was going to make a speech or something…

The rain that was pattering on my umbrella is actually less annoying than I had thought, and it was kind of soothing. I wondered what the arena would be like this year. Last year was a volcano… I hope it isn't the same thing… I don't want a wet arena either… And a humid one is out of the question… It needs to be a sunny arena, but not too hot, comfortable temperature. The training centre has air conditioning, so I expect it in the arena too. I wonder what my district partner will be like…

I hit something, quite hard, and I totally lose my balance. I mean, I don't know what is going on until I felt very wet. I try to take a gasp of air but instead I inhale water, and suddenly realise what is going on as I throw myself out of a pretty deep puddle, on my knees whilst my furious fit of coughing takes place, getting up the lungful of street water I had just inhaled. By the time I had finished coughing, I realise that someone had gotten in my way, and I glance up at them. It was a girl, or a transvestite, in a strapless red dress that goes down to about their knees. Looking up higher I realise that this was a girl. I recognise her pretty well, she was the one who would always talk to Glitter next door, and train with her privately and after hours.

"You idiot! What on Panem do you think you are doing! These are my best clothes!" I snarl venomously, standing up at full height which, to my delight, is a few inches higher than hers is.

"Who do you think you are? You can't talk to me like that!" She snarls in return, bending down to pick up a red lily that had fallen into the puddle, and is now all soggy, along with her hair, and dress… And my hair.

"Whatever! I hope you trip over in a gutter and drown!" I spit, watching her look at me with cold grey eyes.

"You'll regret this." She announces, spitting down at my feet before she moved to walk away.

I am about to yell something in return when I hear some laughter from the left of me, and I turn to look at its source. A group of kids, younger than me for sure, so I take my anger out on those little brats. How dare they laugh!

"Shut the hell up you inbred fools!" I yell, just as the girl, who I believe is called Silver, shouts something very similar at them.

They quickly draw quiet and go back to their monotonous shuffle, not talking at all anymore, as my eyes draw around to Silver, who is already looking at me. Our eyes connect, and there is a new unknown respect between us now, I guess we are both similar in terms of our ability, though I am the popstar, so undoubtedly better than her. Then it hits me… Maybe she is going to volunteer! Why else would she train so much! Of course! Now it all makes sense. So she will be my district partner, and eventual enemy… I guess we haven't got off on the best starting grounds, but judging from the look on her face, she could be thinking similar things about me. Will we team up in the arena? Will we get that far? Maybe someone else will beat her to it… But anyway, just to be sure, I give her a small, curt nod. It is a long, awkward moment, before, to my surprise. She nods back.

* * *

I still have my finger in my mouth even when in line with the other eighteen year olds, right at the front I will add. But my finger is still sore, the stupid woman who picked it had done it really hard, and she was so rough with it too. I am not happy. I glance up towards the stage, and spot Lapis Cooper, the Mayoress of the district, who is scanning over the mass of potential tributes trying to decide who would be volunteering, someone always volunteers. And the lucky bitch has an umbrella. We don't. Normally I would have been freaking out, but after falling into the puddle my looks can't get much worse, and the rain is preventing my hair from drying, and becoming, frizzy. I noticeably cringe as something happens, and the Mayoress stands, gesturing with her hands to the crowd to silence us, though the talking was minimal, before she produces a sheet of paper from the inside of her jacket, and begins to read it, into the microphone.

"Welcome, people of District One, to the Reaping Day for the 13th Annual Hunger Games. We are here to draw the name of the brave young man woman between the ages of 12 and 18 who will bravely represent their district in this year's Games. Our great country of Panem rose up out of the ashes of this once continent of North America, whose destruction dates back hundreds of years. The former civilization was far more advanced than we know and the technologies that they possessed were things beyond comprehension. But this lead to a disconnection from the earth which impacted the environment so negatively that the world faced floods, droughts, hurricanes, and other natural disasters which wiped out most of the planet. Thus, from our surviving ancestors, we have Panem a country split into 12 districts that each play their specific role in providing for and sustaining the common good. District 1 Luxury Items; District 2 Masonry; District 3 Electronics. District 4 Fishing; District 5 Power; District 6 Transportation; District 7 Lumber; District 8 Textiles; District 9 Grain; District 10 Livestock; District 11 Agriculture; District 12 Mining. Our Capitol serves to supply our needs, protect us from harm and safeguard us from violence. Though of course we are reminded of the dark days, 14 years ago, when the some people in District 13 forgot this hard truth, and tried to go against the very government that sustains and protects them. District 13 is no longer with us but the Hunger Games thrive in its place to remind us of what violence and chaos really are, and that we must never go back to such a world. Over the next weeks we will watch the tributes in the arena fight to the death to bring their District great honour. As we all know, there can only be one winner. So, without further ado, I want to introduce our representative from the Capitol to choose the names of this year's Hunger Games tributes, Miss Venus Zalarez." She says, not even changing her jolly voice throughout the speech, well it was jolly compared to the peacekeepers anyway.

I yawn a few times during the speech, and the boys either side of me keep nudging me, I bet they are eager to volunteer too. But they won't. I will. Definitely. Then the escort emerges, and I immediately stop feeling sorry for myself. She had clearly made an effort, but the rain had made short work of it. There is glitter colouring her face everywhere, but in clumps and the rest of her make-up has also run. Furthermore, the dye from her wig is being washed out onto her, and is making her tanned skin slightly green. I giggle, but then stop in attempt to hide it, as she frolics over to one of the two glass orbs located on the stage, and starts to speak.

"Thank you, Lapis. Now, the time has come to select the two tributes for the 13th hunger games. Ladies first..." She grins at the audience for a moment, and held a suspense, which I presumed was designed to unnerve, though here it would do no such thing. Only irritate those wishing to volunteer. Then her hand dipped in, and plucked one out. "Cheryl..."

"I volunteer!"

A volunteer. Sighs of irritation echo up from the girls column as a girl strides from the eighteen section, and lo and behold, it is Silver. I thought she was going to volunteer. See, I'm not just a pretty face, I have brains as well.

"Well well, a volunteer, and what is your name young lady?" Venus chuckles, as Silver climbs the steps towards the woman on stage, who moves to offer a hand out, but withdraws quickly, probably because Silver looks like a drowned rat. I guess we all do.

"The name is Silver. Silver Hartford. Listen up, Panem." She starts, bravely, making a move to grab the microphone from Venus' hands, which makes the capitol woman recoil from shock. "Remember my name."

"Well good luck to you." Venus says happily, whilst snatching the microphone from the hands of the young tribute. "Now for the boys..." She shimmies over to the second bowl, and pulls the same trick as last time, before finally dipping her hand in to pluck out the name. "Quartz..."

"I volunteer!" I think I scream, jump, and maybe accidently punch the guy next to me, but I don't care, because I got there first. I was the first boy to volunteer. I smile and rush out of the column, and practically run to the stage, with the ever happy Venus quick on the response.

"A second volunteer, how wonderful, and what is your name young man?" She says, offering the microphone to me as I reach the top of the steps.

"Zeo Radonix, and I'm sure all of my fans are devastated right now, so I just want to say..."

"... Congratulations on our new tributes from district One!" She says hurriedly, moving away from me, taking the microphone from my mouth, totally ruining my speech. I want to follow her and steal the microphone back, but the look Crash is giving me from across the stage where he and Glitter are standing tells me not to.

"Happy hunger games! And may the odds be ever in your favour." Venus cheers, as Silver and I move for the handshake, which damn near breaks my wrist, before we are shepherded into the justice building by the over-enthusiastic Venus, and half a dozen peacekeepers, ready for our goodbyes.

* * *

It is a little awkward now, I mean; I am just sat in a room. My mind continues to drift back to my district partner, and I can't help but wonder if we will be friends or not… For all I know I could be the one who needs to kill her and that does scare me a little bit, because I don't want to do that to a friend, not to mention a relative of my next door neighbour… But my thoughts are soon snapped, as the door opens and the forms of my mother and father walk in, who both look stony faced.

"Zeo, what do you think you are doing you stupid…" My devil spawn of a mother begins and I can tell she is clearly annoyed because I can feel her spit hitting my face. But then she changes the subject. "Darling wasn't this room green last year."

I glance up at the plum coloured wallpapers, wondering when my parents had been here before, when I realised that I am probably sitting In the same seat that Crash had sat in all those years ago. My parents were decorators by the way, mainly for the rich of the district, but occasionally for the capitol, though of course, that is seldom indeed.

"Yes dear I believe it was, and I believe that the mantelpiece has been given a shade too dark of paint." My father adds moving his glasses up to sit better on his nose, whilst running a finger along the wood as If that will reveal what paint has been used.

"Oh my goodness it is utterly ludicrous… Why we were not asked to decorate this room I'll never know? We must talk to the mayoress this instant; it is a disgrace in here." My mother returns, her tone venturing up a few octaves.

My parents then turn to leave, and I can't actually believe it. I know that they are workaholics, but this is a little extreme, they weren't going to say goodbye, or good luck? Or even shout… They didn't even shout… I put my middle finger up as they both move to leave, just to show them what I think, though they don't turn around to look at me again. I then start to feel a little sorry for Crash, I expect they had done something similar to him. I guess I can ask him, he is going to be my mentor. And that is kind of funny, that the mentors are our relatives.

"You have five minutes." A monotonous voice that could only belong to a peacekeeper rings out, as the door opens and someone walks in. I guess it is Crash, so I don't bother to look, but then they speak, and I notice that this is not Crash, nor one of my friends, I have no idea who this actually is.

"This is just awkward so I'm going to get it out…" The boy says, as I turn to face him. He is so hot I think I actually blush. I can actually see his abs through his top, which was tight and black, and he was just… Nom. "I was just going to say… Well I noticed… Can you look at my face please?"

I then realise I am just staring at his abs, so I manage to draw my eyes away from them, though it is difficult to say the least. He has a really pretty face. His eyes are sparkling and blue, and he is fairly tanned, with a head of spikey blonde hair that is styled pretty well. I then blush again in memory of how awful I must currently look from falling into the puddle earlier, and then the rain as well, me can't be as young as me, because he is dry, he has to be over reaping age.

"I was just coming to tell you that… I sent you the ring." He manages, gesturing to my hand, which I lift up as to examine the silver band, which was well crafted and gorgeous. I don't know quite how to react. I don't know who he is… Is he a fan? As I just said I don't know, which makes it pretty hard to decide what to do. In the end I just try to play it casual, try being the perfect word.

"And you are?" I ask, kicking myself mentally because of the tone I used, far too uptight for this situation, if I am going to get sponsors I will need to dial that down a little.

"Malachite Dupuis." He replies simply, making me chuckle a little at how undaunted he is by my snobbishness, him I like.

"This is a brilliant piece." I then tell him, holding the ring up so he can see it clearly. "It was definitely the most beautiful present from a fan I have ever had." I continue, smiling lightly as I stand up, feeling awkward sitting down whilst he was stood.

"Not anymore." He mumbles, and just as I turn around to question him, something unbelievable happens. He kisses me.

Okay, he does a little more than kiss me. In a heartbeat my back is being pressed against the hard stone wall behind me, and his body, which is equally as hard as the wall is, presses against my front. I try not to, but my body sees it as an act of aggression, and I lash out one of my hands, which is a reflex from my training, and I catch him right across the cheek. He doesn't fall or even stumble, but he does back away, which makes my body moan at the loss of contact, but does allow me to breathe again. But as I move my hand up to my mouth to cuff away the dampness that goes across my lips, he turns and makes to leave the room.

I call him back numerous times, but it is little good, because he is gone, and of course my attempts to follow him are stopped by a peacekeeper outside the door, followed by Venus, who prances up and begins questioning me on a 'rumour' she heard, that I can sing. It is too late, I missed him. I scowl and punch the nearest thing in frustration, which just happens to be the peacekeeper, who strikes me in the gut with the pummel of his gun, which is met by a thorough scolding from Venus. But it all goes past me, because all I am thinking about, is that he probably hates me, or thinks I hate him. I groan yet again, knowing that I need to win now more than ever, so I can apologise. I hate loose ends. I really hate them.

* * *

**Silver Hartford, District One Female**

_**Cashmere67**_

* * *

_The remaining Career stumbles her way through the forest. She comes to the Cornucopia and can barely make out who the remaining tribute is. The lava flow has ceased and she finally relaxes. Her remaining opponent, the District 12 male, is surrounded by a bed of flowers. He's weakened and doesn't even have the strength to notice her presence. When she comes close, he pleads for her to kill him. The boy drops his weapon and gets on his knees in front of her. She closes her eyes and lifts up her sword. She brings the sword down on his neck and then falls down onto her knees, crying. The announcer begins speaking, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the victor of 12th annual Hunger Games; Glitter-"_

The video is abruptly interrupted by my mother's grating voice, "Silver!"

I grab the remote quickly and press the pause button. I rub my eyes and glance over at the clock- 6 AM. I haven't gotten any sleep the last couple days because I've been watching the previous Hunger Games. Specifically Glitter Dasher's, but I watched a few snippets of the others. I can't wait to see what mine will look like on the big screen.

"Glitter and I want to have one last training session before the reapings." The disembodied voice drifts off even further. She must be leaving without me.

In my closet lays my crisply ironed clothing. I slip on the full length body suit and grab the neighboring boots. I proceed to the kitchen and grab a few berries. I look around for my parents, but no one's to be seen. My mother, Marble, is probably already at the training center; she's the head trainer in District 1. I slip on my boots and go outside. I take a deep breath of the fresh air and rest for a moment. I begin walking towards the training center.

Despite being from District 1, especially on reaping day, not too many people were bustling around the streets. Most children and their parents would be awake at the early hours of 6 AM, but I would think especially on today. Today, any child between the ages of 12 to 18 would have a chance to participate in the Hunger Games. Participation in this event is an honor; it could bring fame and fortune. The Hunger Games are only a recent thing. They began 13 years ago. The idea of the Hunger Games derived from the notion to take control of Panem and the rebelling Districts. I've been looking forward to today for the past eight years.

My parents have always supported my training. At the age of 9, my mother proposed the question if I wanted to begin training. Well, of course I want to train, and I felt I was obligated to; a mother who is the head trainer at the training center and a father who is a Peacekeeper. I'm more than prepared to participate in the Hunger Games.

This is my year, I can feel it. This is my last year of eligibility to participate in the Hunger Games, and I must make my eight years of training worth it. Nothing in life is more satisfying than watching the Hunger Games on the television. I can almost imagine myself during the Bloodbath, chasing my prey, and then going in for the slaughter. My mind drifts off into what this year's game has in store for me.

As I turn the corner to the training center, I see two distant bodies in front of it- my two best friends.

Most people say I don't have many friends because of my pugnacious attitude. I'm not stuck up nor arrogant, I'm _sophisticated_. I have an aura of elegance that no one can transcend. I may be dogmatic at times, but I know I'm always right.

Gleam and Glint are identical twins and the only two people who somewhat meet my standards in the District. They're both 17, but act is if they're mature adults. If I'm friends with one, I have to be friends with the other; they're basically the same person. They don't possess the same amount of skills I do, but they can still hold their own.

During the tribute rankings, which were held in the training centers to see who would be fit for volunteering, Glint and Gleam did score pretty well. I, on the other hand, decided not to participate. Nothing would stop me from volunteering this year.

"Why are you going to training? You won't be picked, and if you are, there will be volunteers," Glint says from behind me.

I scoff at his ignorance. Picked? Silver Hartford isn't going to be picked. Why? It's simple; I'm volunteering. I can do some serious damage with a spear. Plus, I know every pressure point there is. And who would dare to lay a finger on a beautiful girl?

"I'm volunteering," I deride, "Now leave, I have some training to attend."

They leave and I open the doors into the training center. There stands my mom and my cousin, Glitter. I owe my life to Glitter; she's the only person that exceeds my near perfection. After her victory, she provided my family with incessant money. She may be only 15, but she was capable of winning the games. She's not a ruthless killer and I may not be too fond of how distraught she is from her games, but she still means something to me. I will follow in her footsteps and return to District 1 as the victor of the 13th Hunger Games. Mark my words, Panem, Silver Hartford is your victor.

My mom tosses me a spear, "You're late." I launch the spear at a nearby and it hits bulls-eye.

Glitter grabs two swords and gives me one. I get into position, sword wielding in front of me. She swings at me and I dodge it. I swing my sword back, and the sound of clinging metal travels through the whole center. Glitter forces the blade under my boot and trips me. I drop my sword put my hands in the air.

"You got me," I say sarcastically.

She comes near me to grab my hand and I grab hold of her foot and pull her down. I stand up and grab one of the swords, and then put it to her neck. My scintillating performance even got a chuckle from my mother. I thought this would be one of my many laudable achievements, but Glitter stands back up and goes near the throwing knives.

"What's next?" I incite.

She places an array of knives on a counter that she expects me to throw. These paltry pieces of metal would do me no good in the arena. I prefer spears; they're ominous and if you do one thing, they'll kill you in a second. I stand there for a second with one of the knives in my hand. I grasp it even tighter and aim it at the eye of the dummy. I throw the knife and it lands in the shoulder of the dummy.

"It's early in the morning, what else do you expect?" I exonerate myself.

I throw a few more knives, and they all land in the same exact locations as my first one; the shoulder. I suppose a knife in the shoulder could cause some damage, but it's not lethal. I think I just discovered a newly found abhorrence for these weapons.

My mother and Glitter sit down at a table and gesture for me to sit across from them. I walk over, while the two of them watch my every move intently. Glitter tilts her head, and her platinum blonde hair drops to the side. She begins twirling her hair.

"You know," she begins, "the Games aren't what they seem; they're much worse. What happens in the arena won't leave you." She stands up and an unusual tear forms in her eye, "Trust me."

She walks over and grabs a knife from the rack. She aims it at the dummy and throws the knife; it lands in the abdomen. What is she trying to prove? I'm aware she can kill; I've watched her games 15 times already. I can recite every minute of her games. Her games were concluded with an emotional scene, which has altered her mind. She constantly has nightmares about the Bloodbath during her games and the finale. I don't know what the big deal is, if you volunteered, you knew you were going to have to kill at least one person to become victor.

My mother gets up as well to grab a book. She drops the book on the table and the cover has a leaf on it.

I push it away, "What's this?"

She pushes it back towards me, "Your survival skills lack. Knowing the difference from a poisonous leaf and an edible leaf is fundamental." Her and Glitter began sword fighting and I lean my head on my hand.

"They don't think I know the difference between leaves? I'll show them, I will," I reassure myself.

I flip through the pages and pretend to be reading. This is ludicrous! I don't need to do any of this, none of this will be vital during the games; I'll have the Cornucopia under my control to acquire supplies from. The reading becomes tedious and irritating. I emphatically push the book onto the ground and grab a spear.

"I know what I'm doing," I say in a monotone voice. I throw the spear at a dummy and it hits perfectly in between the eyes.

I go into the bathroom and begin washing my hands. I look into the mirror and realize I'm a mess. The reaping is soon and I look horrible; my disheveled auburn hair covering my eyes and my perfectly tanned skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. I move my hair towards the side of my face to reveal my gray eyes.

"You're ready for this, Silver. This is your chance to prove yourself to everyone; that you're not the prima donna girl that nobody likes," I murmur to myself.

I place a finger on the mirror, where my nose is located. I can do this. Being a tribute is my purpose, and becoming a victor is my destiny.

I walk back outside to see my mother and Glitter gone, and all of the lights shut off. I curse under my breath and walk towards the door. I grab the door, but one of the janitors stops me.

I turn my head towards him and put on a fabricated smile.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?" he says, beginning to mop the floor.

My facial expression becomes emotionless and I slam the door behind me.

No, everything is not okay. No one believes me that I am capable of winning these games. I was hesitant at first at deciding to want to volunteer, but now it's official. I will be the female from District 1 in the 13th annual Hunger Games. I'll do well- scratch that, I'll do _extremely_ well. I placate myself and begin to vaguely think of what my victory speech will sound like. The rest of the walk was in complete silence and I made it home in good time.

As I open the door into my home, my father stands before me. He's in his Peacekeeper's uniform and is probably only home to pick up something he forgot. He's scrambling through the drawers in the kitchen.

"Hi, daddy," I say. I sit down at the table and he looks up.

"Oh, Silver, didn't see you there. I can't talk right now, but I'll see you at the reaping!" He says as he grabs a key out of the drawer and hurries out of the door.

My father, Channing, is one of the head Peacekeepers here in District 1. We seldom speak to each other, or even see each other for that matter. It's not too bad, though, since I have my mother and my cousin. He doesn't know too much about me longing to volunteer, but he's in for a surprise.

I saunter over to the window and survey the surrounding area of my house. Besides the temporary puddles formed by the oncoming rain, the front of my home is splendid. A walkway paralleled with a diverse amount of flowers. I live right outside the gates of the Victor's Village. Since my cousin won, she bought my family a home near hers. I glance over at the clock- 9:00 AM. Reapings begin in an hour.

I go into the bathroom upstairs and set up the shower. One hour until the reaping, and I must look my best. I doff all of my clothes and step into the shower. I relax my muscles and feel refreshed as the hot water cascades down my body. I scrub the layer of sweat off of me and then begin washing my hair. I put the shampoo in it and scrub thoroughly. I finish washing myself and step out of the shower. I wrap myself in a towel and grab an extra one to wipe off all of the water on the mirror from the steam. My face is revealed and I smile to myself.

If I do get into any danger in the games, my beauty would save me. I can manipulate anyone with my beauty. Trust me, this is no folly. No one would lay a finger on me without regretting it. I bring my self-esteem back up by complimenting myself. What do my mother and Glitter know anyway? I shake the words they said out of my head and put on my game face. It's time to show Panem what the Hartford family is capable of.

I grab a hairbrush and begin speaking into it, pretending I'm at my victory interview. I flip my hair, "I'm Silver Hartford- victor of this year's games." I flip my hair the other way, "Why yes, I knew I would win from the day I volunteered." I stop talking into my hairbrush and place it down. I can't get these pesky thoughts out of my head. Why can't anyone just be happy for me?

I go into my walk-in closet and decide on what to wear. I grab a red dress. I put it on and look at myself. It goes up to my knees and it's strapless. I put a few silver bangles on both of my arms and grab a red lily from my dresser. I place it in my hair. I grab the hair curler and begin to curl my hair. Even though it's naturally curly, I want it to be extra curly today. After about 10 minutes, I finish up curling the last piece of hair. One last thing- lipstick. I grab the brightest red lipstick I have and put it on. I pucker my lips a few times until it's perfect.

Downstairs, I see my mother waiting at the door for me. She's still in her training outfit. I hope she's going to change, that's nothing to wear to a public reaping, especially when it's broadcasted all over Panem.

"Is that what you're wearing?" I banter, eyeing her up and down.

Without even a smirk, she turns around and holds the door open for me. We walk outside and the first thing I notice is the weather. The weather has changed rather quickly from only a few hours ago. I stop and go back inside to get an umbrella. I can't go to the reaping looking like a mess. I open the umbrella and hold it above myself. My mother and I go towards the town square where the reaping will be held. I look down at my bangles and the raindrops slide off of them. I guess the weather fits the year; the 13th annual Hunger Games, which has always been regarded as unlucky.

My time is near, and I am ready to show them the real me. Don't get me wrong, I know what I'm getting myself into by volunteering, but what else is there to do? Live in the shadows of Glitter, while the rest of the family praises her? That's not what Silver Hartford was made for. I stand up straight and push my hair to the side. I shake my shoulders and put on a sadistic grin. There will be no fooling around from now on. It's game time.

My mother rushes ahead of me because she's supposed to be one of the first people there. I casually walk through the puddles thinking about how I want my reaping to go. It must be extravagant. If another girl tries to volunteer, she'll regret it. What about my district partner, though. I haven't thought too much of which boy it could be. It doesn't matter to me, since they won't be much of a challenge. When I have gone to public training, I kept my eye on some of them. Most are pretentious, in the aspect that they're only training to impress their parents.

The rain seems to get constantly worse as I get closer to the reaping. The puddles are sort of deep now, and I attempt to avoid every single one. I can't afford to get wet, especially not now. As I turn the corner to Justice Building, my eyes get drawn to the architecture. The lavish stonework and the lovely drapery hanging from the windows; no wonder District 1 is known for luxury goods.

I inch closer to the District square, still mesmerized by the Justice Building. Suddenly, I feel a force push me over and I impulsively put the umbrella in front of me. I fall onto the umbrella and some of the water splashes onto me. My lily falls off my head and submerges itself in the puddle. I look up to see someone else in the puddle as well; a pale boy, no older than the age of 18. He's sort of handsome, but after what just happened, he will receive no such admiration. My outfit is now ruined; my red dress now a maroon color from all of the water on it, my bangles with a layer of mud on them, and my hair, that took me so long to prepare, is now ruined from this boy. People should watch out and not be so careless. His clothes didn't look too nice either; his pink shirt and skinny jeans now drenched with water.

"You idiot! What on Panem do you think you are doing! These are my best clothes!" He snarls venomously.

"Who do you think you are? You can't talk to me like that!" I snarl back, picking up the flower from the puddle. It has a layer of mud and water on it now, great, exactly what I wanted.

"Whatever. I hope you trip over in a gutter and drown."

"You'll regret this," I spit at his foot and grab my umbrella.

As I get up, I hear a group of kids laughing at the two of us. They were younger than me, probably around the age of 13 or 14.

"Shut the hell up you inbred fools!" The boy and I shout in unison. That was odd; I guess good minds think alike.

We make eye contact for a second, and he gives me a little nod. Two can play at this game. I nod back and I smirk at him. What is he trying to do? Will he the volunteer this year? He better watch his back, then, I'm a force to be reckoned with. There seems to be new found level of respect between us, though.

Despite his clumsiness, he had an edge to him, which was evident through the tone of his voice. But the only thing that was a turn off was his…immaturity. Overall, his appearance was pleasant, but the little details abated it. First of all, his shirt wasn't even buttoned all the way, exposing his navel and chest. You should look your finest for the reapings. It was subpar, to say the least. Second of all, his boxers were showing. Better yet, they were covered in smiley faces. _Yellow _smiley faces, to be exact.

I shake the excess water off of me and look at myself once again. The flower's dry now, but the dress is still sort of damp. I snap myself back into reality and put my grin back on.

I proceed to the District square and take my spot near the aisle of the 18 year old section. If I want to get to the stage first, I must be close to it. The youngest children are in the front, while the oldest are in the back. I'm one of the first people that arrived, but more of them are coming. I presume it's about 9:45, but that doesn't matter to me at the moment.

I must plan how this will go down. I'd prefer for the escort to begin with the females, to make myself eminent. If any girl gets in my way, I guess I could be subtle and only jab her in a single pressure point, which would cause immediate paralysis. No deaths allowed; that would make me look too vicious and terrifying. The reapings could attract sponsors as well. If some Capitol citizens do watch the reapings, I'd have to make myself known and unique from the rest of them.

I play with the bangles, sliding them up and down my arm. My mother already took her spot near the entrance of the Justice Building. I try to get her attention by moving wherever her eyes were directed towards, but she didn't seem to notice me. I sit there for a few more minutes, until I become extremely bored. I daze off and begin thinking about Glitter's games.

* * *

The Bloodbath was the most brutal out of all the Hunger Games so far.

_Glitter leaps off of her platform. She's hesitant at moving, but decides to go for a sword. She grabs the swords and a backpack and sprints off the other way. She was being trailed by the male from District 4. They were still only a few feet from the Cornucopia, and Glitter made her first kill. She decapitated the boy and kept on going._

There were a total of 15 deaths, leaving 9 left. Fortunately, Glitter was one of those nine.

_She trekked through the forest, and managed to kill four other tributes using her sword. One other person came to their demise, and then it was down to the final four. The Gamemakers began to release lava all over the arena, which was intended to kill three other tributes. __**BOOM.**_

One more cannon goes off and she was inching closer and closer to becoming victor.

_The announcer begins to speak, "Well done to you remaining three, keep up the good work!" She stumbles a little and peeks over her shoulder. The lava isn't anywhere near her now, but the next noise startles her. __**BOOM.**_

Two more. This is the finale. This is where the victor will be crowned.

* * *

Gleam taps me on the shoulder and I snap out of my daze. Everyone's now here, prepared for the reaping.

"Two more minutes," Gleam informs me and proceeds to the 17 year old section.

The mayoress of District 1, Lapis Cooper, takes her place on the stage. She grasps the microphone in her hand and taps it once, to get everyone's attention.

"Welcome, people of District One, to the Reaping Day for the 13th Annual Hunger Games. We are here to draw the name of the brave young man and woman between the ages of 12 and 18 who will bravely represent their district in this year's Games," she says.

Now comes the boring part; the history of Panem. I think we're all aware of that; it's been 13 years of the citizens of each District hearing this.

The rain has affected everyone here it seems. Lapis' makeup is running and now is Venus'. It's quite comical, though. Most of the crowd doesn't even have umbrellas.

"Our great country of Panem rose up out of the ashes of this once continent of North America, whose destruction dates back hundreds of years. The former civilization was far more advanced than we know and the technologies that they possessed were things beyond comprehension. But this lead to a disconnection from the earth which impacted the environment so negatively that the world faced floods, droughts, hurricanes, and other natural disasters which wiped out most of the planet. Thus, from our surviving ancestors, we have Panem; a country split into 12 districts that each play their specific role in providing for and sustaining the common good," she explains to us.

She informs us on the roles of each District, "District 1 Luxury Items; District 2 Masonry; District 3 Electronics. District 4 Fishing; District 5 Power; District 6 Transportation; District 7 Lumber; District 8 Textiles; District 9 Grain; District 10 Livestock; District 11 Agriculture; District 12 Mining." She clears her throat and continues talking.

"Our Capitol serves to supply our needs, protect us from harm and safeguard us from violence. Though of course we are reminded of the dark days, 14 years ago, when the some people in District 13 forgot this hard truth, and tried to go against the very government that sustains and protects them. District 13 is no longer with us, but the Hunger Games thrive in its place to remind us of what violence and chaos really are, and that we must never go back to such a world. Over the next weeks we will watch the tributes in the arena fight to the death to bring their District great honor. As we all know, there can only be one winner," she steps to the side.

She holds out her hand and points to the escort, "So, without further ado, I want to introduce our representative from the Capitol to choose the names of this year's Hunger Games tributes, Miss Venus Zalarez."

Venus Zalarez, the escort for District 1 this year, is your cliché Capitol citizen. She's probably in her late 40's, but looks as if she's a teenager. Venus is petite and incredibly thin. The glitter on her eyelids compliment her tan skin very well. Her green curly wig is very humorous. I have to bite my tongue to hold back any laughter.

"Thank you, Lapis. Now, the time has come to select the two tributes for the 13th hunger games," she puts her hand in the bowl and picks up an envelope.

This is my chance. I get into ready position and my mother gives me a slight smirk. I clench my fists, prepared to stop anything that gets in my way.

She opens it carefully, "Now, the time has come to select the two tributes for the 13th hunger games. Ladies first... Cheryl..."

"I volunteer!" I shout, sprinting up towards the stage.

"Well-well, a volunteer, and what is your name young lady?"

"The name is Silver. Silver Hartford," I grab the microphone, "Listen up, Panem, you better remember my name."

She goes into the other bowl and grabs an envelope, "Well good luck to you. Now for the boys... Quartz..."

"I volunteer!" A boy runs to stage, a sense of determination in his eye.

I recognize that voice; it's the boy that knocked me into the puddle. This will be interesting.

"A second volunteer, how wonderful, and what is your name young man?"

"Zeo Radonix. I'm sure all of my fans are devastated right now, so I just want to say..." Zeo begins to speak, but is quickly interrupted by the escort.

"... Congratulations on our new tributes from District 1! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor," Venus turns to the two of us.

Zeo and I shake hands, and then Venus escorts us into the Justice Building. Here, we will have our final good-byes.

I turn and get one last quick look at Venus' face before a Peacekeeper puts me in a private room. Her makeup is even worse than before; the glitter on her eyelids now in clumps and everything else dripping off of her face.

I sit in the room, twiddling my thumbs back and forth. My first visitors are my parents.

"Silver," my mother says, in her normal stern voice.

"Good luck," my father says with a grin.

"You're more than prepared, but if I don't see that 12 above your picture for the private training sessions, I'll be very disappointed," my mother laughs. There's a jesting tone in her voice. This is the first time she's ever joked around with me. Am I finally becoming the daughter she's always wanted?

A Peacekeeper comes in and says it's time to leave. I grab ahold of both of them and hug tightly. This is the last time anything will be the same between us.

Next, Gleam and Glint enter. They sit down across from me, and we all sit there, silently.

"I'll be rooting for you?" Glint tries to break the silence.

Gleam begins sobbing, "Silver! You shouldn't have volunteered!"

I shush her quickly. It's already done. I can't change anything that has already happened.

We sit there for at least two more minutes until they leave. My final visitor is Glitter. I get nervous for a second; something I'm not used to. What is she going to tell me? I'll see her on the train anyway.

"There's not much to say, at the moment, but here," she hands me a box that's wrapped in lace. "I'll see you on the train."

Glitter walks out of the room, without being told to do so by a Peacekeeper. I hold the box in both of my hands and decide it's time to unwrap it. I take each lace end and untie it slowly and carefully. I open the box, and inside is her ring. The ring the president gave her after her victory. I observe the ring, and my eyes go directly towards the gem in the middle. Inside, I see the word 'Dasher' carefully inscribed into it.

Venus gets me from my room and I meet up with Zeo. I don't look at him; show him your determination. We walk to the train station, and wait there, standing on the platform.

I'm more than prepared for the Hunger Games. I'm an expert with spears; I can do anything you can think of with one. I'm manipulative; I can make anyone do anything for me. I know every pressure point known to man; if there are no spears present, my hands will suffice as well. I'm beautiful; I'll attract a multitude of sponsors.

Who would want to kill someone as perfect as me?


	3. District Two Reapings

**A/N- **And here we have it, the District Two Reapings. Just thought I would let you know the schedule for updates is monday, wednesday and friday. We may not stick to this, really depends if we get the chapters in on time but I will try to stick as close to this schedule as possible! Yeah so another district, another reaping. This one being District Two we have two very interesting careers, both with unique personalities, both vying for their chance to shine. Enough of me, I bring you District Two with the amazing i-am-foxface and NinjaNakkiOfCabin11 ... enjoy and leave a review (you know you want to) ;)

(Oh I should probably mention that when I get the reapings it is up to me to put them together and make a few edits here and there, so if there are any mistakes with what the authors originally intended, like a word that was supposed to be in bold or italics then sorry, it's me being the idiot I am and not paying enough attention) :D

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**i-am-foxface A/N- **Hey guys, hope you like Kaya :-) This is the only non parody fanfiction I've written for a long time so it might be more funny then most reapings. I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it!

* * *

**Kaya Andora, District Two Female**

_**i-am-foxface**_

* * *

I smiled as my swords slashed through the air, like deadly extentions of my arms sending the robotic dummy's sword clattering to the ground. I kicked the dummy hard in the stomach using my swords like scissors to cut the head off. Spinning round, I duck under another dummy's mace, slashing at its legs. I roll to the side away from a knife thrown by the third dummy, stabbing my sword through the mace dummy's chest. Leaping towards another dummy, I sever both arms off, bringing my right blade down on the neck as it falls to the ground. I grab the knife that I dodged earlier, throwing it back at the knife thrower. I don't have the best aim, but the knife serves as a distraction as I leap through the air, stabbing my swords in to the knife throwers eyes.

I flip myself over the swords, rolling while still clutching my blades. I stand up, pulling my swords easily out of the head.

"Nice job kiddo" smiles Poise, my trainer. "Not completely awful"

I groan inwardly as Poise begins to drone on about every minute detail of the fight. I tune her out, barely hearing a word of her boring lecture. To pass the time I look around the training center, smirking as I watch a twelve year old trainee fall over under the weight of a sword, obviously trying to impress the bored looking girl he's talking to. Ooh, he has chocolate. I want chocolate. Maybe some fudge or caramel or-

Shit. Poise shoves me to the ground, glaring down at me, her sword hovering above my throat. "As I was saying" She growls, "You need to concerntrate more".

She stands up, leaving me on the floor as she stalks out of the training center. Damn, she's scary.

I get to my feet, hanging my swords on the weapons rack as I head outside.

I lean against the wall of the training center, waiting for my friends. Pulling the silver lighter from my pocket, I turn the flame on, holding it dangerously close to the wooden door. .

"Hey pyro" Comes a voice behind me. I spin around, seeing Zander behind me. His smiles, his blue eyes sparkling, and takes the lighter from my hand. "Not trying to burn the district down again are you?"

I blush, remembering the last time that my playing with fire had caused trouble. I had been twelve, and I was waiting for my mother to come out of a meeting. I'd been so bored, that setting fire to the curtains seemed like a good way to pass the time. Long story short, they were more flamable then I thought, and we ended up with a shiny new marble justice building.

"Nope, though that would be fun" I smile, taking the lighter back from him.

"Err, I don't think it would. Unless you count almost dying as fun" snarked Corra. I don't quite know how Zander and I became friends with Corra. She's probably the most paranoid person who ever lived. She's fun to tease though, and we can't exactly tell her to go away, so she often tags along with us.

Me and Zander stay quiet for a moment, pretending to hang our heads in shame.

"Yep, that is fun" I grinned. Zander smiled, as Corra facepalmed.

"Ugh, you're so immature" She groaned.

"That's why you love us sweetheart" Zander said, "Wanna go slide down the mountain before the reapings?" He asked.

"Hell yeah" I smile, dragging Corra along with me as we run towards the mountains.

About ten minutes later, we arrive at our favorite spot, a clump of boulders about halfway up the mountain. I flop down on a boulder, dragging the smooth metal board out from behind.

"I wish you wouldn't do stuff like this" sighed Corra, "You could get hurt, or die, or-"

"Relax, stress-head, if she dies, we get her stuff" Typical Zander, always seeing the positives.

"If I die, you two will be the last people to get my stuff" I smirk, slamming the board, a random piece of metal I 'found' on a construction site, down on to the mountain. "Hey Corra, race you" a look of disbelief crosses her face.

"There is no way I'm risking my life doing some stupid thing that you think is fun" Corra huffed, glaring at me.

"Tell me again why we keep her around" I ask Zander

"She's the bakers daughter, we might get free cakes" My mouth waters at the thought of cakes, okay now I'll be super nice to Corra...after I mountain-board down this mountain.

"Guess it's just me and you then, later Corra" I point my board down the slope, crouching down ready to go.

"You know I'm gonna beat you" Zander holds his board, his eyes shining mischeviously.

"In your dreams, Three, two-" I launch myself down the mountain, leaving Zander behind in a cloud of dust. "See you at the bottom loser!" I yell, looking round to see a fuming Zander zooming after me.

I lean to the side, zig-zaging through the scattered rocks. I let out a loud laugh as I skid off a rock, flying through the air for what seems like a lifetime before hitting the ground with a jolt. I struggle to avoid the rocks now, I'm going too fast. I drag my feet through the dirt in an effort to slow myself down as the jagged rocks tear at my skin. Crap I'm gonna die. I turn the board to the side, frantically trying to grab on to a rock as I hurtle down the slope. As the board slows slightly, my hands grasp a rock and I hang on tight as the boards momentum almost pulls my arms off. I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally stop. My heart is racing and adrenaline coarses through my veins. I stand up shakily, watching as Zander slides past at a far more reasonable speed. He skids to a halt a few yards away and jogs up to meet me.

"Kaya, are you okay?" He gapes at the long gashes on my arms and legs, looking worried

"That" I grin, "Was freaking awesome!" A relieved look crosses Zanders face as I start laughing, partly because of how strange Zander looks when he's worried, and partly because of the thrill of surviving that. Zander starts laughing too, and we start to walk back home, almost collapsing with laughter.

"Bloody hell Kaya I could barely see you back there, when you went off that rock I thought you'd fell off the freaking mountain!" laughed Zander. "I definitely won though"

"You wish, I was way faster then you" I grin.

"Yeah, but we were racing to the bottom. You chickend out and grabbed that rock" he retorts

"Did not! If I'd reached the bottom I would have crashed!" Zander flaps his arms about, making chicken noises. "Real mature Zander, real mature" I sigh, mentally plotting a way to get revenge.

"See you at the reaping chicken" Zander grins, jogging off towards his house.

I wave to him, unlocking the front door to my house. I've barely got in the door when I am bowled over by a mass of chocolate brown fur. My labrador, Fathead, slobbers all over me, his tail almost knocking a vase from a table.

"Hey boy" I smile, stroking his wiry fur. "Did you miss me?" he barks excitedly, circling my legs as I walk to the kitchen, grabbing some ham from the fridge and throwing it to him. I laugh as the ham lands on his head and he runs in crazy circles trying to get it until it falls and plops on to the ground in front of him. Fathead's never exactly been a normal dog. Unlike most dogs he eats popcorn, is obsessed with shiny things, and got his name because when he was a puppy, his head was huge! Leaving my weirdo dog in the kitchen, I head upstairs to my room. Getting across my room is like navigating a minefield. Every surface is littered with clothes, books, and rubbish and the walls are plastered with posters of victors killing other tributes, fighting mutts or doing other awesome things. My favourite by far is a poster of Rogue Swash fighting off a bunch of tributes on a merry-go-round. The arena that year was a large carnival, it was weird because no one in the Districts has ever actually been to one but boy do they look fun. In a matter of weeks, I'll be joining the people who cover my walls. I haven't told anyone yet, but I'm volunteering for the games. It will be the ultimate thrill, and I'll get to do so much awesome stuff!

I fling open the doors to my wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that isn't too girly. Girly girls never win in the Hunger Games. I want to look scary. I flip through the rows of dresses. Too pink, too sparkly, that one looks like a unicorn puked on it, no, no, no! Ugh why do I have so many pink things? I finally find a pair of denim shorts, and my 'I Love The Hunger Games' T-Shirt, perfect. As I pull off my shredded jeans, I notice the scrapes and cuts running down my legs. Even better, the Capitol will assume I've been in a fight. I pull on my clothes, pulling my dark red hair in to a ponytail. Checking my appearance in the mirror. The top isn't too tight, thankfully hiding my lack of curves. And the shorts show off the scars and cuts on my long legs. My dark blue eyes don't look too crazy, and there are no leaves or mud in my hair, so for me I look quite good. I slip my black gladiator sandles on, running out the door. I don't bother to wait for my parents, my mom's always doing mayor stuff and my dad is only home on weekends, so they're rarely around.

I follow the crowds to the town square, slipping in to my section just on time. I push my way through the crowd until I'm right next to the boys section, smiling at Zander in the crowd. My mom starts her boring speech and I yawn loudly, earning myself a few glares from peacekeepers.

After what seems like a lifetime, the escort finally takes to the stage, clomping over to the girls reaping bowl in her high heels. "And our female tribute is-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I call along with half the population of district two. Girls surge forward from every direction and I feel someone grabbing my hand from behind. I spin round, coming face to face with Zander.

"Let go of me!" I yell, shocked that he is trying to ruin my chance.

"No, you can't do this Kaya, it's crazy!" Zander yells back.

I can see that he won't let go, so I do the worst thing that I've done in my life. "I'm sorry!" I call, as I punch Zander in the face, yanking my arm away from him. I charge forward, not looking back as I duck and weave through the fighting girls. I still have a chance, all the other girls are fighting, if I just run I might make it. No, an eighteen year old girl is just a metre from the stage, she's going to get there first, unless...I leap through the air, planting my foot on her back and using her as a sort of springboard to launch myself to the stage. I look out at the crowd but the only face I see is Zander. His eyes are full of pain as he watches me, I can almost hear him asking, why? I push all thoughts of Zander from my mind. This is my moment, my time to shine.

"Hi, I'm Kaya Andora. Your next victor" I smirk, managing to stop myself from adding an evil laugh at the end.

"Fabulous!" squeaks the escort "Now, our next tribute is-"

I smile as I watch the brawl start up again, strong careers doing everything they can to get to the games. I watch as a tall, muscular boy punches the guy next to him and leaps on to the stage.

"Talon Lockhearst, volunteer tribute, future victor" He grins cockily at the crowd.

"Lovely! Absolutely lovely!" Squeals the escort, "Don't these two look absolutely lovely together?" I can see that she is looking at Talon, not me when she says that, and I make a mental note to annoy the crap out of her on the train.

We're led to the marble justice building and in to our lavishly furnished tribute rooms to await our visitors.

I perch on the hard chair, dreading the moment when Zander will walk through the door. But it isn't Zander who enters the room, it's my parents.

"I'm so proud of you dear" smiles Mother. I realise that this is the first time she's ever said that to me. The first time she's smiled. She may be my mother, but she dosn't act like one.

"I know you'll win Kaya" Dad said, hugging me. I hug him back, he may not have always been there, but at least he tried.

I endure five minutes of their reassurances, and I'm glad when the peacekeeper asks them to leave. I am left alone for a few minutes before Corra enters the room.

"Now I'm certain, you have a death wish" she smiles, hugging me.

"I think we established that a long time ago" I smiled.

"I'll miss you, even though you're probobly the most annoying person in Panem" She sniffs, tears flowing down her face. Woah, where's all this coming from? I thought she hated me.

"Relax stress head, I'll be back in a few weeks" I smile, hugging her.

"Good luck Kaya" she smiles as a peacekeeper escorts her out.

I sit and wait for twenty minutes, expecting Zander to come through the door and make a joke, or tell me I'm stupid. But nobody comes. Finally, a bruised Zander walks through the door. He looks like he's trying to decide between hugging me or slapping me. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he throws his arms around me.

"You idiot Kaya, you fucking idiot" he sobs, holding me close as he cries. I hug him back, slightly suprised at how emotional he's acting. It's not like I'm gonna die or anything.

"Chill Zander" I smile "I'll be back soon"

"You better be, you can't leave me to deal with Corra alone" He tries to smile. He slips something in to my hand "Burn the arena down for me" He says encouragingly as the peacekeepers come in to take me to the train.

"Kick some ass pyro!" He calls as I leave the room. I flash him one last smile as Talon and I are escorted to the platform.

We board the train, smiling and waving to the mass of cameramen that crowd the platform. Once we're on the train, I look down at the thing in my hand and see that it is Fathead's collar, a strip of red leather, covered in orange flame designs. I fasten it round my wrist, looking back at district two as I head towards victory.

* * *

**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11 A/N- **I don't own the Hunger Games. Which I am sad about. But I do own an Otter statue, which I have named "Walter". I also own Cheezits. Which I am eating. And I am writing a pointless author's note. Which you are reading. =) Enjoy!

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**Talon Lockhearst, District Two Male**

_**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11**_

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_The girl whimpered as I raised the knife up. Before she could utter a word, the knife sliced through the air- and her throat. Her lifeless body sank to the ground. Boom. A canon went off. In the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of bright green dart in and out of the trees. The other tribute. My opponent. My last opponent. I whirled around, my bloody knife at the ready. I stood my ground, not moving and inch, not showing that I knew he was on the move. I quickly wound up my arm, and threw the knife out. The entire world stopped moving, except the tiniest of shuffles from the other tribute's feet as he ran obliviously, and the spinning of my knife headed straight towards him. And then-_

"THUNK! The knife sunk straight into his back! He sank like a rock! The cannon boomed, and the game maker officially announced my victory!" I said with a grin.

"Oi, you little shit! That's the best part!" My Uncle Fabriano shouted. He reached across the table and slugged me on the arm. Hard. Ouch.

"Then don't be so predictable." I rolled my eyes. It was the morning of the day that would change everything. The morning of the Reaping- correction, my Reaping. It was my time to shine, and I would make sure of it. My Uncle Fabriano was sitting next to me at the table, retelling a detailed account of his dream. He told it every year on Reaping morning- the same exact story, the same exact way. He said he had the same dream every night before the Reaping, and he claimed it was an omen- that if he was young enough, he would have won the games, or that maybe in another world, another version of himself had. He was a crazy old coot, but he _did_ have some kick-ass storytelling skills.

My seven-year-old cousin, Fairiella, sat on the other side of me, holding my little 2-year-old sister, Dovell. Across from me sat my mother, who I suppose was beautiful, at one point in time. This was our standard Reaping morning routine. Which my dad was _not_ a part of. He was out at the Training Academy, no doubt about it. He actually helped run the place, along with two others. The place was practically a second home to him.

My mother pulled out this ancient golden pocket watch. "Talon, honey, if you want to hit the Academy one more time before the Reaping, you need to finish breakfast and get going. It's going on-"

"Yeah, okay." I cut her off. I polished off the last bit of the sticky griddlecakes on my plate and stood up. "I'll be back in about an hour to get ready." I stated, ruffling Fairiella's hair. "Wear something pretty." She giggled and nodded. I nodded to my uncle and mother before picking up the large duffel bag by the table and hurrying out the door.

It was drizzling outside, but it didn't look like it was about to pour. I looked out towards the direction of District 1, where the sky was noticeably darker. It looked like it had rained hard over there. Good thing I live in District 2.

I stuck to the sidewalk, walking briskly in the direction of the Academy. Several of the houses I'd passed had lights on, full of people getting ready for the biggest day of the year. It wasn't long before I found myself thinking about the weapons that might be available in the Arena. By far, my favorite weapon was the sword. It was a knife that could cover more distance. If the person I was fighting against was two feet away from me, and I had a knife, I would have to lunge forward to strike. That put me in an awkward, vulnerable position. Depending on which weapon my opponent had, I could be dead before I even scratched them. But, with a sword, I didn't have that risk. It would quickly cover the distance needed, and I more than likely wouldn't be harmed. I nodded to myself. Choice weapon was _definitely_ a sword. I added that to mental to-do list:

1) Make allies

2) Develop strategies

3) Locate food/water source

And 4) Acquire sword.

Not necessarily in that order.

I was jolted out of my thoughts as someone clapped me on the shoulder. Without looking, I grabbed the person's wrist and twisted it around, forcing them onto the ground.

"Ow! Ouch! Talon!" The closest thing I had to a friend, Aricula Yule, yelped.

"Sorry." I responded, not sounding very sorry at all. I let go of her and stepped back. "You should know not to do that."

Rubbing her wrist, Aricula got back up. "Well, hello to you, too." She snapped at me.

"What do you want?" I asked impatiently as I resumed walking towards the Academy. She huffed and blew a stray strand of white-blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing. Geez, why do you always assume I want something?" She asked, walking alongside me.

I arched an eyebrow. "You always do. That's why."

"Oh really? When was the last time I asked you for something?" She challenged, staring me down with her big blue eyes. I shuddered internally. Her eyes were large and sapphire, and they always seemed to see right through you, right into your soul. It was like she knew all of your secrets, all of your weaknesses, and judging from what I've seen her do at the Academy, she knew exactly how to bring you down: emotionally _and _physically.

"About last week, you showed up at my house in the middle of the night and begged for me." I replied simply, eyes trained on the looming silhouette of the Academy in the distance.

"So?" She asked indignantly.

"So, what do you want?" I said, an irritated edge slipping into my words. Sometimes, Aricula stalled for so long that I wanted to claw my own eyes out.

"Just to know if you planned on volunteering today."

I wanted to slap her. "Are you _really_ that stupid? _No shit_ I'm volunteering!" Maybe she had a brain lapse. God knows. _Everyone_ in the District knew I was volunteering, even Old Albel, the resident recluse- who happened to also be deaf and blind, in addition to ancient.

"I was just making sure!" She said with a world-class eye roll. "You know, your mom doesn't want you too."

It happened so fast, I didn't get a chance to comprehend it. I had her pushed up against the side of an old clothes-wash service with brick walls in the blink of and eye. "Don't you go off pretending you know what my mother does and doesn't want!" I snarled. "You aren't part of my family! You _never _will be. You don't know _shit!"_

Her eyes were so wide in surprise, they were like dinner plates made of sapphires. Then they hardened and narrowed as she raked her fingernails across my face. "What the hell is your problem today?" She hissed, shoving against my hold. "I'm just stating the facts- the facts that _everyone_ seems to know but you! It's obvious that she doesn't want to lose you! She loves you, Talon. Though for the life of me, I can't see why." She finally gave up shoving and settled for kicking me in the groin. I stumbled backwards, letting her go. She rolled her shoulders around, rubbing the places where I'd held her at a death grip. "Maybe it's because it's Reaping day, but you're more of an asshole than usual."

Without replying, I shoved past her and resumed walking, only this time at a faster pace. Unfortunately, she kept right up with me. "I'm volunteering, too."

"Good for you." I said flatly. "So is every other girl of age."

"Well, you know that I'll get the Reap." She tossed her hair.

"I know that you're arrogant and annoying as hell."

"I've got the strength, I've got the skill, _and _I've got the looks." She said, ignoring me. "I'm pretty much a shoo-in."

"If we both volunteer," I stated, eyeing her. "You do realize that one of us will die if the other lives?"

She blinked, a blank look on her face. Clearly, that thought hadn't occurred to her. "Oh. Well. That." She looked at me, her eyes brimming with sympathy. "While I'd hate to kill one of my friends, if it needs to be done….." She trailed off. "It is the Hunger Games, Talon."

Well, it was a damn good thing we weren't friends.

* * *

It was an hour before the Reaping by the time I got home from the Academy. I'd lifted a few weights, thrown a few knives, and engaged in a light bout of hand-to-hand combat with Aricula, but that was about it. I didn't want to strain or injure myself before the Games. That would be awful. I didn't run into my dad, either. He probably had a last minute one-on-one training session, but that was fine by me. I definitely didn't need the added pressure of my dad shouting at me from across the room, telling me how weak and pathetic my swings were.

I raced up the stairs, dropping my gear by the door. I hurried into the washroom and filled the tub with warm water. I peeled my shirt off slowly, careful to mind my shoulder- the one place I'd somewhat-injured today. Aricula might be thin and lithe, but don't underestimate her. She packs a powerful punch, and maneuvers herself so that she seems everywhere at once. While she can be an annoying floozy, she's a fierce fighter, no doubt about it.

After I'd fully immersed myself in the warm water, I'd soaped up and scrubbed away at any dirt or grime, minding my still-tender shoulder. When I was done, I wrapped myself in a towel and darted across the hall into my room.

I threw open my closet and scanned the contents. I needed something dressy, but not _too _dressy. I opted for light blue button-down and some dark wash blue jeans. I laced on my black training boots and quickly combed my hair in what I hoped to be an attractive fashion.

"Mom, you ready yet?" I hollered impatiently. I wanted to get as close to the stage as possible.

"Yes sweetie, just let me finish dressing your sister and we'll go, ok?" Her voice called back to me.

A few minutes later, my mother appeared in the doorway, holding my immaculately dressed little sister. "Finally!' I exclaimed impatiently.

"Sorry, but Dovell was being fussy." She explained, walking down the stairs. I trailed after her.

"Where's dad?" I asked as we left the house, locking the door behind us.

"He's already there, with your uncles. So is Fairiella." She said, picking her way around the little puddles from the morning's drizzle.

We walked in silence for a while, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. Until, that is, Aricula decided to interrupt them- again.

"Hey, Mrs. Lockhearst. Hi there, Dovell." She cooed at my sister, wagging her fingers. She nodded her head in acknowledgment at me.

"Oh, hi, Aricula!" My mother gushed. "How are you?"

"Oh, I've been better." Aricula shrugged. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." My mother replied. She smiled at Aricula. Aricula and I had been somewhat-friends for many years, and my mother _loved_ her. She used to always ask me when "That Yule girl" was going to come back over.

"Can I help you?" I cut through the meaningless chatter, aiming the question at Aricula. My mother looked appalled at my rudeness, but Aricula didn't seem fazed.

She shrugged. "Just wanted to walk with you, s'all." She grabbed my hand as we walked. While I didn't pull away, I didn't make any move to intertwine our fingers.

We walked another block before we _finally_ reached the square. I dropped Aricula's hand as my mother kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, Talon. I'll see you afterwards." There was something about the way she said it. Like she was reassuring herself. Was it true that maybe she didn't want me in the Games? No, my mother wanted me to be happy. And being a Tribute would make me more happy than anything. For her to want me to stay here, she would be entirely selfish.

Aricula and I split ways as my mother went off to the side with my sister, Aricula to the left with the girls, and I to the right with the boys. I checked in with the Peacekeeper, then waded through the throng of boys to get as close to the stage as a boy my age could get.

A few meaningless minutes later, when it seemed that everyone had checked in for the Reaping, the Mayor stepped up to the podium. "Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen!"

The adults and children not young enough to be Reaped clapped and whistled. The Mayor nodded and smiled and gestured for silence. Then she began to tell of Panem's past, of the Revolution, and of the beginning of the Hunger Games. I knew it all by heart, so I tuned it out and waited for the perfect moment to initiate my plan for volunteering.

"And so now, please welcome, all the way from the Capitol, Glow Graphite!" A man with literally golden skin skipped up to the microphone.

"Welcome, District 2, to the Reapings of the Thirteenth Hunger Games! Now, to pick our first victor, oops, I mean, Tribute!" He giggled. The parents chuckled appreciatively.

Time to strike.

Wordlessly, I pushed past kids younger than I, wading through to get closer to the stage, ignoring the "Hey!" and "Watch it!"s that I received.

"And our female Tribute is…." The man said, pulling out a slip.

Every single eligible girl shouted out simultaneously: "I VOLUNTEER!"

Needless to say, a riot broke out. I watched, wide-eyed, as girls bashed each other's faces, raked other's backs with fingernails, and a few girls even began to literally tear out other girls' hair. Screams of pain and victory echoed through the air. Many girls were on the ground, unconscious and bloody. Nobody was unharmed, it seemed. Suddenly, a girl jumped up onto another girl's back, then vaulted onto and unconscious girl, using her back as a spring board. She vaulted up onto the stage, landing with what can only be described as grace.

"Hi, I'm Kaya Andora. Your next victor."

All of the girls ceased fighting at once. If looks could kill, this Kaya would explode. The girl Kaya had used for her piggy-back ride was trembling with rage. _Wait_- was that-? Yes, it was. The girl was no other than Aricula. I nearly laughed.

"Bitch!" She screamed. Kaya ignored her, as well. I had to admit, this girl had guts- and wits.

The escort just giggled. "Fabulous!" I tore my eyes away from Kaya and continued pushing through the crowd. Soon, I was right next to the stage.

"Now our next tribute is-" I didn't even give him time to reach into the glass ball. I pushed up onto the stage and stood up.

"Talon Lockhearst. Volunteer tribute, future winner. I grinned cockily out at the crowd. I noticed that my mother was pale, clutching my sister to her chest. I caught Aricula's eye, but looked away quickly before I smirked.

Nearly all of the boys shouted at once. They began to protest that my volunteer wasn't fair. A few Peacekeepers pushed into the crowd, silencing them all at once.

"Lovely! Absolutely lovely!" The escort crowed. I turned to Kaya and held out my hand, which she quickly took and shook. "Don't these two look absolutely lovely together?" The escort asked. "Yes! Now, that's all. Have a lovely day!" And with that, Peacekeepers guided us into the Justice Building behind the stage.

* * *

My mother was the first to visit. "Oh, Talon!" She cried, running into the room and hugging me. She hugged me like she used to when I was little- back before the Games. Back before I became a killing-machine. "Why….why would you do that?" She sniffled, pulling back to search my face.

"It's my time. I'm going to do this, this is what I want." I replied. I kissed her on the forehead.

"You want to die? You want to kill innocent children? Talon! I raised you so, so much better…."

I pulled out of her embrace like she was on fire. "Are you so selfish? This is what I want! This makes me happy!" I shouted.

"This…this makes you happy?" She stuttered, tears now freely falling down her face. She scanned my face for something, anything. Apparently, she wasn't satisfied. "I….I don't know who you are anymore. Maybe your father pushed you too hard. Maybe….. I don't know. You've changed. I can't lose you, too. I already lost your brother. Though, I suppose I've already lost you. No. I refuse to believe it. Don't you want to be here to see Dovell grow up? Don't you want a life? Do you care about me at all?" She sobbed, backing away from me.

"It's me, mother. It really is." I reached out for her, but she backed away from me. I felt a slight pang in my chest to see her like this. But she brought it on herself, being so selfish.

"No. No. I don't believe you." She twisted away from my grip. "But…" She trailed off. "But I still love you. How can I love you? I will always love you."

"Mother, you've gone barking, raving mad."

"It's your father's fault. I don't mean to blame. But it's his fault." She whispered, clutching her heart.

"Don't talk about my father like that!" I roared. "He's a great man!"

The Peacekeeper outside my door decided to intervene. He grabbed my mother's arm and pulled her through the doorway. I barely heard her whisper one last time: "I will always love you…."

Aricula came next. "That bitch!" She seethed. "Who does she think she is? 'I'm Kaya Andora, your next victor!'" She mimicked. "Ugh! I hope you run her through! You hear me? Slice that bitch open! Make a show of it!"

"Mmm-hmm." I responded. I wasn't really listening. I was too busy thinking about what just happened with my mother.

"It should be me, Talon! I should be the female tribute! I should be going to the Games with you. We'd be unstoppable. Together, we'd have the entire Game in our hands!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, will you?" I snapped at her. Immediately, she crossed the room and draped herself all over me.

"Well, let's have fun." She cooed in my ear. "Come on. One last time. For old time's sake." She covered my mouth with her own. It was dry and rough. I felt absolutely nothing.

"No. Not now." I pushed her away from me. "I have to go."

"Come back soon, Talon." She kissed me again quickly, but turned to go after one last wink.

Not even a minute after Aricula left, my father appeared in the doorway. He didn't come in, and I didn't ask him too. "Son." He said intensely. "You don't go making us look like idiots. You bring pride to your District. You bring pride to your family. You bring pride to me." He thumped himself on the chest. He nodded in approval at me. Then, he turned and left.

My father had never been so proud of me. I practically glowed with his approval. When the Peacekeeper came to get me on the train, I went eagerly. As I waved goodbye to my Ditstrict, I had never been so determined to make my father proud in my entire life.


	4. District Three Reapings

**A/N- **Hello my good people, first off I would like to apologise for not updating yesterday, my laptop battery is really bad and for my laptop to stay on it has to be plugged into the charger and the charger broke so I couldn't get onto fanfiction except for using my phone and the chapter was on my computer ... anyway only a day behind schedule so not too bad, tomorrow will be the next reaping (hopefully) but for now here we have District Three brought to you by hiilikepie1937462 and d11olive-13, enjoy!

Oh one final thing, I know it is not my place to beg for reviews, but what I would love to see and I am sure the other authors agree is just a review from everyone that views, come on guys it only takes a minute to put in some comment and it's worth it because it pushes me and the others to do even better ... so pretty please *bats eyelashes* leave a review :P

* * *

**hiilikepie1937462 A/N- **This is hiilikepie(not puting all of those numbers here) And this is my tribute... You should know that by now... I like pie do you like pie? Anywayz enough with me on to James... ENJOY HIS WEIRDNESS!

* * *

**James Templesworth, District Three Male**

_**hiilikepie1937462**_

* * *

I awaken to the sounds of people chattering. I watch through my squinted blue ocean-like eyes. These people are sitting quite comfortably on my lilac bed with a giant pink heart bedspread. I strain to listen in on their conversation. I hear 3 words: "James", "mental" and "illness". They think I have a mental illness! Well it is quite unusual for male with male features to try to become a female. I happen to like the curves that only females can provide. They are so much more beautiful, so much more kind. That is no exception to ponder the thought that I may possess a mental illness.

Steaming with rage that I can't contain, I sit upright. "For your information, Mom and Dad - no I don't have a mental illness, although I am starting to wonder if you do!" I scream. For a minute my parents eyes show confusion, then anger before settling down to a understanding look.

"James dea-" My mom tries to reason with me, but calling me 'James' makes me hit my climax.

"Don't. Call. Me. James. My name is 'Ciarra'." I cut her off with cold anger.

"Honey, You are a male and your name is James Templesworth. Repeat." My mom orders.

"I am a female and my name is Ciarra Templesworth." I say, defying her orders while she sighs with disappointment. I study my mothers face. Her pale white skin is etched with wrinkles. I wince at the thought that some of those may have been caused by me. Although she is getting of age. My mother is 57. Glancing up at her deep brown eyes, I notice a tint of disappointment, wandering her dirt-like eyes.

"Skyler is here to see you." She strides on out of my room, followed by my dad. At first I glance outside; the sun is high enough to deem its about nine o'clock. I slip into my normal girly attire just in time for me to hear Skyler's fast paced and slightly crazed footfalls in the hall. Skyler is a very strong 17 year old. His olive skin does not compliment his short blonde hair. Nor do his blue eyes. Skyler fell in love with me… or Ciarra. Now unfortunately for me, he thinks I'm his girlfriend. I would rather just kill him and move to another district, Stupid Peacekeepers don't allow that. I would probably just guarantee a life of imprisonment for my family. Although I don't like them too much, I wouldn't do that to them.

"Hi," Skyler said walking in, "What are you doing today?"

"Well it's Reaping day today. I got to get ready." I respond.

"I think we have a little bit of time. Don't we sweetheart."

"I. am. Not. Your. Sweetheart."

"On the contrary."

Skyler starts moving his buff hands down to my middle-section and brings me closer to him. No… I am not gay, I may want to be a girl but I am interested in girls. There is only one option. My hand slips into my bright pink jacket and grabs my pocket knife. I almost shiver at the feel of the smooth, cold surface of the blade. I stroke the dull side for a moment wondering if it is necessary. I waited a bit too long because now Skyler is trying to bring me into a deep kiss. Oh shit. Before I am aware of my actions are I kick him in his 'private part'. He immediately falls on my soft bed and covers his bottom portion. I watch him slithering around on my comfy bed like a deadly snake.

"Bye sweetheart." I mock. I receive a groan in response.

With Skyler taken care of, I stride out of my room and into my bathroom, making sure to lock it just in case of a unwanted Skyler popping up, and set about cleansing my body of Skyler. I brush my teeth with "CAPITOL GERM AWAY!" (It tastes minty). I glance in the mirror, looking at my pale blue eyes along with my dirty blonde hair and pale white skin. I saunter out of the bathroom.

Soon I hear three crying voices. Great, they're up. I go in to try to soothe their crying. My three baby siblings. One boy, two girls. Triplets and constantly crying. They all have identical feature to mine, except for my baby brother as he looks nothing like my parents. His soft dark hair along with his even darker olive skin contrast greatly with the pale skin and light-coloured hair that the rest of the family possess. I calm my siblings down with a song

_Close your eyes,_

_and soon you will be,_

_in the land of the golden skies,_

_Close your eyes,_

_and wander into the magical night,_

_full of wonder and delight,_

_Close your eyes little one,_

_and soon your dreams will come,_

_Close your eyes,_

_shut tight and mind unfurled,_

_wander off and watch the world,_

_Close your eyes,_

_and drift off on a cloud of sleep with you,_

_Child,_

_your dreams to still on autumn nights,_

_Set your gaze on the shining lights_

_Upon a bed so soft and warm,_

_So safe you are from every storm,_

_Your dreams await so soft and sweet,_

_A smiling face will wait to greet,_

_Count each star up in the sky,_

_Close your eyes to a lullaby,_

_Lie still on autumn nights,_

_Close your eyes,_

_and soon you will be,_

_in the land of the golden skies,_

_Close your eyes,_

_and wander into the magical night,_

_full of wonder and delight,_

_Close your eyes little one,_

_and soon your dreams will come,_

_Close your eyes,_

_Shut tight and mind unfurled,_

_Wander off and watch the world,_

_Close your eyes,_

_and drift off on a cloud of sleep with you,_

_Child, your dreams to keep._

After singing my baby siblings to sleep, I skip downstairs only to meet my parents.

"Ja- I mean Ciarra," Corrected my mom "We made a appointment for you in one hour with a lovely man named ."

"Why?" I ask, although I am afraid I already know the answer.

"Better for you to not know." My father sighs. His identical features to mine show a great hatred for me. Like he curses the day I was born and would rather me be an orphan. Great now they think I have a mental illness and they hate me. Great, just great. At this rate the only thing that could be worse, would be being chosen as a tribute. It would reveal that I am a guy as well as my death.

"But today is the Reaping," I whimper. "I have to get ready! The Reaping is in thirty minutes!"

"Fine, but no funny business mister. I mean it!" With that being said, I take off without another word, heading to my secret training center. I train there just in case I get reaped. Which I do have a good chance of thanks to my parents… The reason we are doing fine is because since my parents are too lazy to go and GET A JOB, they make me take out loads and loads of tesserae. As for buying items, my parents rely on their parents to purchase goods for them. Even with all of that, I still love them.

I bolt into my secret training center , drifting over to the weapons rack, which is beckoning me. I am in awe as I stare at all of the shiny knives I have collected, picking up the deadliest knife that I can perceive, as well as a piece of rope. I have trained myself over the years. Quickly, I get to work using the piece of rope and start knotting it until I have a very complex snare. Setting the snare on the ground, I move the dummy a bit so he's near the snare. I kick the dummy in the back and it moves over right onto my snare. Within a millisecond I have the dummy hanging by foot. I distance myself, aim my deadly knife and watch in excitement as my knife lands right where the heart would have been . Perfect. After practicing this move a couple more times, I try another move that has to do with electricity. First I do my normal snare, I set it on the ground and set it up. I then begin tampering with my lightning rods, connecting rod after rod, along with a few wires that conduct electricity. I deem that it will work and I connect a wire to my snare, and conceal it. To test it I push a dummy onto it. Bingo! It worked perfectly. Wait, what time is it? I glance at my worn out leather watch. Reaping starts in 10 minutes! I dart out of my secret training center and dash towards, District 3's central square.

I stride towards the identity table.

"Finger" The person handling the table demanded, curtly. I hold out my finger, shut my eyes hoping nobody notices hears the quite loud monotone voice announcing my name, age, district, and gender.

Male. James Templesworth. Age 16. District 3

I head over to the 16 year-old section for males, receiving strange looks from the guys. I just shrug it off. I turn my attention toward the plump escort.

"Well, Hellooooooo District 3!" Our escort says cheerily. This escort is the same one they had for five years. Her name is M'shell Xenia. She is 64 years old. She has a very soothing (and very dyed) pea-green colored hair. With orange eyes and light purple skin. She actually seems quite kind. I can fix that…

M'shell continues "Although I know you are all excited to know who this year tributes are, we first must listen to our Treaty of Peace brought to you by, your very own Mayor Filbolt." Out emerges a plump.. wait plump? Geez everyone here is fat! ..a plump man in his early 30's. Oddly he looks a bit like my baby brother. The mayor is a bit.. crazy to say the least. He steps up to the podium to begin his speech.

We all attentively (not) listen to the Mayor's boring speech. The Capitol is great. We are lucky to have the Capitol. Yada Yada. We get it! We just want to get out of here. I am sure that I, speak for everyone here when I say that we don't want to see our friends and family head out to a fight to the death on public television.

"James Templesworth" What? Who said my name? In the middle of my thinking, M'shell had chosen a male tribute, and its me. I stand there like an idiot for a few minutes until the Peacekeepers notice I am not moving and they stomp over. One peacekeeper picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, remembering my pocket knife, I whip it out. My knife glares in the blazing sun, I attempt stab him in the back, yet I miss and I stab his hand, I wriggle my way out of his grasp and maniacally dart towards the stage.

M'shell looks uneasy noticing I have stabbed somebody's hand with the blink of an eye, Peacekeepers move in and take my pocket knife. Should've guessed they would take it. Even though my weapon is gone M'shell still looks frightened to have her back to me. She slowly dips her violently purple hand into the glass reaping bowl. The glass gleaming in the boiling sunlight. M'shell, as quick as a turtle, whips her purple hand out of the reaping bowl with a tiny slip of crumbled-up paper.

"Neon Edison." M'shell exclaims.

Out of the swollen crowd emerges a tiny girl. She has pale skin and huge ocean-like blue eyes like me with long, dull blonde hair, she's wearing a blank look on her face she steps up to the stage and she can't be older than 10. For some reason she looks familiar. She almost looks shocked to see me on stage. I must remember to interrogate her later. I wonder what's going through her mind.

"SHAKE!" M'shell is suddenly scream-whispering into my ears. Oh, I forgot to shake. I stick out my sweaty and dirty hand, Neon shakes it, but I notice she wipes her hands feverishly afterwards.

"Meet District 3's Tributes!" M'shell proclaims. With that M'shell ushers us into the Justice Building. Wait, THE Justice Building doesn't do it justice! It's a gigantic building with an entire side made of glimmering glass. The rest is a shiny aluminum colour. For a minute I stop to admire the tall skyscraper, but a Peacekeeper is pushing me along with the back of his gun.

As I enter the magnificent building, I am offered a comfortable seat while I wait for someone to come and say goodbye. I am expecting my parents, they care enough to say goodbye right? I wait for 20 minutes and just when it seems like nobody is coming I hear the door creak.

A girl enters that looks vaguely familiar. She has identical features to me. In fact if I were a girl that's what I would look like.

"Who are you?" I ask

"Ciarra Templesworth" She answers. Ok hold on a second.. Ciarra Templesworth, that's my name! Well it isn't but that's what I want to be!

"What?"

"My name is Ciarra Templesworth. I am your twin sister. When I was little I tried to help a homeless kid by giving her a little bit of food. Our parents were mad and disowned me. I have been in the District 3 Orphanage ever since. Now I know you have a lot of questions, most of which can't answer, but I want you to take this." She hands me a golden key that gleams in the artificial light. With that she races out of doors, leaving a drop of water in her wake.

* * *

_**Meanwhile at the Templesworth residence**_

"ARE YOU HAPPY? ARE YOU PROUD! YOU SENT JAMES INTO A SLAUGHTER!" Ciarra screams at her ex-parents.

"Yes we are quite happy that James is gone, we were happy that you were gone as well until you showed up" responded the parents (What lovely and charming citizens they are).

"YOU PEOPLE ARE SICK! I KNOW THE TRUTH! YOU ARE BILLIONARIES BUT YOU MADE JAMES TAKE OUT TESSERAE ANYWAYS BECAUSE YOU WANT HIM DEAD! YOU WANT HIM GONE! THE WORLD WOULD BE SO MUCH MORE PLEASANT WITHOUT YOU TWO!" Ciarra rages.

"Honey, I think we have had enough of this.. this 'girl'." With that, they call the Peacekeepers and they drag Ciarra away while she's screaming profanities at the Templesworth family.

* * *

_**Back to Justice Building..**_

Thoughts are ravaging everywhere. Ciarra.. Ciarra…Ciarra is all I can think about… Wait do I hear it too?

I snap out of my thoughts and am face-to-face with who else but Skyler. Great… This day just keeps getting better and better.

"Hi Sweetheart" Skyler says evilly. Gosh does this guy not take a clue! Once again Skyler makes an attempt to kiss me. Suddenly as quickly and as random as a tornado Ciarra bursts in and drags Skyler out of the Justice Building, her eyes are bloodshot and she looks like she has been crying, she says nothing just gives me a playful wink as she drags a cursing Skyler out of the Justice building.

5 minutes later another bad thing happens. The Peacekeeper that I stabbed his hand walks in with his gun and aims it at me. Would he really kill me? I am already gonna die, I'm a freaking tribute for crying out loud! Guess who walks in again? Ciarra! She tackles the peacekeeper with such force that she breaks his skull. The Peacekeeper aims his gun at Ciarra.

"JAMES YOU IDIOT, RUN!" Ciarra screams. I don't need another word to be said I jump onto the train, not soon enough because the last thing I hear is a gunshot…

* * *

**Neon Edison, District Three Female**

_**d11olive-13**_

* * *

Deep breath, steady, don't blink. My blue rubber glove covered hand reaches down with a pair of metal tweezers to adjust the silver wire running through the circuit board. Just a millimeter to the left and it will be finished, I've been working on this circuit for three months, it has to work. After carefully moving the thin strand to join with the converter on the upper right corner I move back my hand and tuck a few pieces of dull, blonde hair behind my ear. My hair never seems to stay in a hair tie, no matter how many times I weave the elastic around it.

I move my hand up to remove the safety goggles from my eyes and place them down on the metal table. Taking a few more slow breaths I flick the switch of the energy source and the board comes to life. Breathing a sigh of relief I flick the switch once more and watch the glowing light fade away and the room becomes dark again, with only a small table light shining on the organized work station. I remove my gloves and wipe the sweat from my brow, glancing at the clock on the wall over my station I see that it's 5:49 am. Oh no.

I hurriedly remove my lab coat and neatly leave it folded on my table before switching off my work light. I freeze suddenly and peer cautiously into the darkness of the Lab.

_It's just the Lab_, I remind myself, _you know your way around here, this is nothing new._

But it was dark, and that made me nervous, ever since I can remember the darkness has terrified me. Well that's not really true, I'm not scared of the dark. I'm scared of what could be hiding in it. I force my feet forwards in the direction where the nearest exit lay, I cannot stop myself from looking around the dark room. I cannot stop myself from feeling frightened, frightened and vulnerable.

Once I finally get through the door of the Lab I lean against the cold metal frame of the newly renovated building to calm my beating heart. Checking my old clock keychain I see that it is 5:57, I have exactly 3 minutes to get home before everyone will be awake. I begin to sprint down the winding path that leads to my house and when I finally reach it I breathe a sigh of relief, I made it.

Climbing in through the window of my first floor bedroom I look around to make sure no one had noticed my absence. They knew I had been working late but the last time I was at work until the early hours of the morning my Father got worried and made the Lab cut down my hours. You see I'm only 13, I wouldn't even be allowed to work if it wasn't for my school grades.

Nobody had noticed I was gone, I am relieved but at the same time this causes a pang of sadness within my chest, no one ever notices me, not even my own family. It seems that only the children with big personalities get noticed in this house, and that's my older siblings, not me.

I make my way over to the small metal dresser in the corner of my room and pull out a pale blue dress, my hairbrush, and a pair of white socks. Today is Reaping Day and Mother would want me to look my best, she is always trying to get me into the high fashion outfits but it's just not me. Sometimes I think that she and Ali would fit in much better in District One.

I pull the dress over my head and secure the clasp at the back to hold it to my tiny frame, it is made of a soft, cotton material and the sleeves run a bit long. It is a simple dress that reaches to just above my knees and it's pale color makes my eyes appear even bigger. I sit down onto my bed and pull the thin socks over my feet before stepping into a pair of grey shoes that are now too small for Ali. I brush out my hair and attempt to fashion it into a tight braid but the style falls out almost immediately, I sigh and brush out my hair again and then grab a small, thin box off the top of my dresser. I look again at the outside of the box, it is silver and metallic with wisps of pale blue to decorate it, I've had this since I can remember but many years ago I lost the key. My mind can almost form the tune that the music box once played, but I was so young that I can't remember much of it. I slip the music box into the small, hidden pocket of my dress before heading downstairs.

I look quickly around the corner before entering the kitchen, and I can see that my parents and siblings have already sat down to breakfast. My sister Aluminum, but most people just call her Ali, is already wearing the new dress that Mother bought her, a fitted red dress with no sleeves and a thin black belt around her tiny waist. Ali has always been the most like Mother, she inherited her beautiful brown curls and dazzling green eyes, and she got her thin, tall body from Father. I on the other hand got my Father's dull blonde hair and pale blue eyes, while I am thin like him as well I definitely did not get my height from him. My brother Titanium, or Ti as most people call him, is also dressed for the Reaping and sits in a chair opposite Ali scarfing down his breakfast of bacon and eggs. He wears a long sleeve white dress shirt with perfectly fitted grey pants and shiny black dress shoes. Ti is very lucky since this will be his last year of being eligible to be Reaped, Ali only has one more year after this one since she is seventeen. Including this year I still have five years left to wait since I just turned thirteen.

I walk into the kitchen and Father tells me that there is still more eggs left in the pan on the stove. I make myself a plate and sit down quietly in the chair at the end of the table. My parents and siblings finish eating and clear their dishes, leaving me to finish my breakfast alone at the table, this doesn't bother me too much though, I'm used to it by now.

A couple minutes after I finish carefully washing my dishes in the sink I hear my brother yell to the rest of the house that it's time to leave for the Reaping. I take a slow breath and wipe my wet hands on the towel that hangs from the cupboard handle before meeting the rest of my family at the front door.

As we exit our home and walk to the Town Square, my sister and brother chatter normally but I can't find

the words to speak, I don't know why but I feel sick to my stomach.

_It's just nerves_, I tell myself quickly, _everyone is scared about being Reaped._

We line up with the other children of District 3 at the identification table. When it's my turn a Peacekeeper motions for me to hold out my hand, I cannot help my fingers from shaking and I flinch slightly as a sharp point is inserted into my finger. She rolls my finger along a piece of paper before she pulls out a handheld piece of equipment to scan my newly shed blood. She seems satisfied with the results and I walk away to join the thirteen year old female section.

I look around at the sea of children, I can recognize most of these kids, even tell you a little bit about where they come from, but I can guarantee you none of them even know my first name. I am standing near the back of my section so I don't realize the Escort has appeared until her voice booms over the speakers. I am not able to see over the children in front of me so instead I turn my attention to one of the huge screens that border the stage.

The first thing I see is Mayor Filbot and District 3's only Victor, Matilda Conch sitting on stage in their places of honor. The same Escort District 3 has had for the past five years is then featured onscreen, her name is M'Shell Xenia and she is quite old, though whatever enhancements she has had have done well to hide her sixty-four years. She looks no different then I remember her from last year, pea green hair and lavender colored skin. Her eyes are an unnatural shade of orange and her eyelashes sparkle in the stage lights.

"Well hello District 3!" M'Shell's eager voice is carried throughout the Square. I think she is the only one present who is genuinely excited for the Hunger Games, though she has reason to be seeing as the Capital citizens don't have to send in tributes themselves. "Although I know that you are all excited to know who this year's tributes are, we must first listen to the Treaty of Treason brought to you by your very own Mayor Filbot."

The Mayor stands up and strides out to the centre of the stage as M'Shell takes her place on the far right side. Mayor Filbot is young, only being around thirty years old, and has close cut dark hair and dark eyes that are set deeply into his tanned face. His eyes are always open widely as if they are trying to take in as much sunlight as they can and he is known throughout the district for his crazy ideas.

The Treaty of Treason is read, it's the same speech every year about the Dark Days when the districts rebelled against the Capital and then were defeated. That's why we have the Hunger Games every year, children are made to pay for the mistakes of their ancestors. By the end of the Mayor's speech the rest of the Square is all but asleep, while I had been soaking in every word, I think by the time I am no longer eligible for the Reaping I will have his speech memorized.

Mayor Filbot returns to his seat and M'Shell once again takes the microphone, announcing that it is now time to choose this year's tributes. The sinking feeling in my stomach feels worse by the second and I'm scared I might throw up right here. I focus my eyes on the ground in an attempt to calm my nerves but they snap back to the screens when I hear M'Shell's giddy voice call out the name of the male tribute, James Templesworth.

For a moment it is silent and then I hear the thumping of the Peacekeeper's boots against hard concrete as they go to retrieve the chosen tribute. I hear sounds of a struggle and some gasps in the crowd but the screen is still focused on M'Shell who is now ushering the tribute onstage so I don't know what happened. By the way M'Shell keeps a safe distance from James I assume it's not good.

Now I get a good look at the figure to whom the familiar name belongs. I am surprised to see that James appears to be a woman, he/she has shiny blonde hair that is very unlike my own dull tendrils, and his/her eyes are a bright, clear blue though uncertainty and a touch of fear is very evident in them. His/her skin is pale and he/she wears a form fitting skirt with a blue blouse that compliments the blue of their eyes, he/she looks to be about sixteen years old. I am unsure what to make of the body onstage as it is so different from how I remember him being all those years ago. The hair and eyes are identical but he is definitely not the same person.

"Well wasn't that _exciting_? Now let's chose our lucky female tribute!" M'shell's voice still drips with enthusiasm and my heart feels like it has taken residence in the back of my throat as she moves her hand around the inside of the glass bowl. The bowl that contains two slips of paper with "_Neon Edison_" written on them in clean handwriting. Finally she selects a slightly crumpled slip and moves back to the microphone to read out the name.

She draws out the tension by gazing into the crowd, as if she already knows which one of us has been chosen, before clearing her throat and announcing a name. My breath catches in my throat and I close my eyes tightly to keep the tears from escaping. The name that was just called out was mine, I am going to represent District 3 as female tribute in the 13th Hunger Games. I am going to die.

I force a foot forward and the crowd of relieved girls parts to allow me through. I keep my breath steady and continue up to the stage. There're too many people here, they're all staring at me now. I feel the harsh gaze of at least a thousand set of eyes all focused on me. I almost lose the calm state I have managed to keep myself in but I quickly recompose myself and try not to think about the cameras that are likely fixated on me.

By the time I reach the bottom of the steps that lead to the platform I can feel that a few tears have escaped my eyes. I look up at the violet hand that is held out to help me up the last couple steps and then I am lead slowly to centre stage to stand alongside James. I can see a flash of remembrance in his eyes but soon that is gone and all I see is pity.

"Meet District 3's tributes!" M'Shell exclaims but the crowd gives only small applause for the children whose lives will soon be cut short.

"SHAKE," our escort whispers between gritted teeth as she waves to the crowd, and James reaches out to shake my shaking hand. His large hand is sweaty and covered in filth, and as soon as he releases the forced handshake I wipe my own hand on the side of my dress

M'Shell is still smiling and waving brilliantly onstage when I am surrounded by two large Peacekeepers dressed in their signature white uniforms, each carry a stunning rifle and wear a protective helmet. They usher me into the large Justice Building where I assume I will be staying until they ship me off to the Capitol. I am taken down a series of hallways and I memorize every twist and turn of the route that leads to the small room.

The Peacekeepers open the huge wooden door and the smaller of the two shoves me in and closes the door behind me, leaving me to myself. I lean against the polished wood walls of the holding room and allow myself to slide down to the carefully cleaned floor. My hand reaches up to wipe the tears from my cheeks and I realize I am shaking, I take deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm myself, needless to say it doesn't help very much. I look up to see a small girl with blonde hair and pale blue eyes reflected in a floor length mirror that is surrounded by a lavish gold frame. The girl's face is lined with the red marks of salty tear stains and her eyes are rimmed with red, I know this girl is me. I never thought I would look this way, it takes a lot to make me break my stone faced expression.

I wipe away the few stray tears that have escaped my eyes and sit up straight. I take calming breaths and remind myself that my fate is not sealed. I have always been good at going unnoticed, if my competitors forget about me, then they won't be hunting me, it's as simple as that. I know a lot about creating tonics, though I have never made one to cause suffering I'm sure it can't be that different, and knots, I have been fascinated with knots ever since I was seven years old, surely those skills could come in handy.

I know it seems crazy but I have to give myself hope, if I don't have hope then I am already dead. However it happened I managed to convince myself that I wasn't dead yet, I could fight and maybe, just maybe, I could win.

I take a glance around the room, there is not much in here so I assume I won't be here for very much longer. In the middle of the room sits a comfortable looking yellow couch and a dark colored wooden table with a metal sculpture created to look like a vase of flowers. There is a matching wooden dresser on the left side of the room and the right wall is covered with empty golden picture frames. When I look closer I can see that the one that sits directly above my head is occupied, I stand to face the frame and look into the eyes of District 3's only Victor, Matilda Conch.

The picture they have hung in this room is the photo taken of a tribute just before they are launched into the arena, she is outfitted in a thick jacket that is well suited for the harsh climate of her Games. Her long brown hair is pulled into a ponytail that sticks out from the left side of her head and her expression is blank, to most she would appear as if she is ready, but I can see the hollow fear in her eyes. She knows where she is going and she knows who she is up against. She is expecting to die.

Matilda will be my Mentor for this year's Games, she won the 4th Hunger Games at age 13. I do some simple math to calculate her current age, 21. From what I've heard she hasn't changed very much since the Games, I know that in other districts the Victors go crazy. Hopefully she is able to help me, I need all the advice I can get, especially from someone who's been there.

I take a quick gulp of air when I remember that I will be going up against some of the toughest competitors. I have heard that some tributes have begun to train at special schools in Districts 1 and 2, some people even say it's been happening in 4. Of course that's illegal, but who am I to stop it, I also figure that the more they train the more confident they will be. Confidence can turn into arrogance very fast, and arrogance in the arena is a deadly thing.

But what about the other tributes, the ones from lower districts, will they be like me? Scared? Nervous? Unprepared? Or will they be as deadly and psychotic as the trained tributes? Suddenly I can't wait to get on the Capitol train, maybe then I will get some information about exactly who I'm up against.

My thoughts are interrupted when the door is heaved open and my family enters into the small, neatly kept room. The first one to enter is Father, who hugs me tightly before sitting me down on the plush, yellow couch next to him. Ti, Ali and Mother gather around the couch, none of us seeming to be able to find the words to use. Finally, after what feels to me like decades, Mother finds the words.

"Do your family well in the Capitol, keep your head up and smile brightly."

I can feel my face returning to the blank expression it takes on while I am around other people, I show no emotion and therefore no one can see the hurt I am feeling.

My Mother hands me a large, rectangular box and I open it carefully. Inside I can see a deep purple bracelet that must be as thick as my wrist, decorated with enormous flowers that I recognize as being pansies. I try it on and sure enough it all but falls off my thin wrist.

Ali squeals with excitement, "I found it to be the wrong shade but wow does it ever perk up that outfit!"

She sounds like M'Shell. I put on a warm smile and place the bracelet back in the long box, thanking them quietly.

"Remember to wear that while you're in the Capital, no one will forget you with that on!" This time it's my Mother's turn to speak, what she doesn't know is that being forgotten is my one chance of surviving and coming back home. I know that I am not strong or trained to kill people with a spear in thirty-two different ways like the tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4, but maybe if I allow myself to fade into the background and become forgettable, at least to the other tributes, then I will stand a fighting chance.

It seems that no one has anything else to say, so we all just sit in silence until one of the Peacekeepers come to tell us that our time is up. Once they've left I feel a few more silent tears run down the skin of my face. Right now I'm sure James' family is crying at the thought of losing him, whereas all I am told is not to embarrass mine. Maybe I shouldn't come back, if I do then that means that none of the other tributes will be coming home to their loving parents and their hopeful friends. I have no one to come back to, so maybe it's better if I don't.


	5. District Four Reapings

**A/N- **Hello everyone, thank god my charger seems to have finally been fixed, using tape and my normally clumsy hands at fiddling with the wires I managed to fix it, hopefully I will be getting a new one soon so what happened with District Three won't happen again. Anyway we are now at our final career district, district four is somewhat of a favourite of mine, I just love the sea and if I had to live in Panem, well that is where I would go.

Anyway moving on, I hope you all enjoy this wonderful reaping by newbie11 and Blue Eyes Arch Angel, I know they would appreciate your reviews, so go on, once you have finished reading what they have written, leave a little review ... it makes them, me and the other authors happy :) District Four Ladies and Gentleman!

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**Oceava Lac, District Four Female**

_**newbie11**_

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"Oceava! Fishing time! Up and at 'em!" I awake to the sound of my father, he's hollering at me. Of course, it's time to go fishing. You see my father owns his own fishing business. When I was 5 I started to help out. At first all I did was learn how the trade works, but then I got more hands on.

Now I'm in charge of the nets and pulling them onto our ship. It isn't easy. Each net weighs around 500 pounds! But that's fine. It just makes me stronger.

"Wake up!" he hollers again. I sleepily open my eyes and stare at my father for a moment. He has amazing green eyes, unlike my own, and chocolate hair with streaks of grey. His skin is especially tanned from fishing, and he has a few wrinkles forming on his forehead. He just turned forty last week.

I slowly sit up and shoo him out. I need to get dressed. As he leaves I slam the door behind him, I need to show slight irritation, otherwise he'll do this tomorrow. If I'm here tomorrow of course. I might volunteer today, I'm unsure.

I walk over to my closet, quickly pulling out a green t-shirt, and black jeans. I jump into my closet, as it seems to of eaten my windbreaker. After wrestling with all these clothes inside I find my windbreaker. With a haughty expression I pull it on.

My shoes are grey rubber, they protect my feet. It's a lot you need if you're fishing. And that's just what you need to wear.

I race through the house, down a small deserted hallway, past my brother's empty room, and down the stairs.

I meet my dad outside, and we walk to the harbor. It's only a block away from our home, so it's a short walk. When on my own I usually sprint it. Oh well, I can't with dad's bad leg. Old man. Ugh.

The ocean comes to view, and I catch a view of our vessel. She's a good vessel, with my father since he started the business, twenty years ago. She's a nice deep green –painted by me when I was 8, my dad helped, and she stands around 15 feet high, and 20 feet round. Some would consider her small, I guess I can see that, but it's just right for me.

My dad and I board our vessel, feeling excited and ready.

I lower the nets into the water. I wait.

One minute passes.

A second minute comes. I stare at the water, hoping for a swim later.

A third minute comes. My father puts his hand on my shoulder and requests some bait.

A fourth minute. This is getting to its full extent.

I walk over, and pull it up. It weighs a bit over 500 pounds, but that's nothing. Not anymore, any way. I was five years-old when my father brought me fishing for the first time. I was already in career training, and slowly drifting into the career frame of mind. So, I found this almost fun. But the nets were very hard to lift then, now if I really tried I could get them with two fingers. But that would be arrogant, arrogance turns into carelessness, carelessness makes you go hungry or gets you killed depends on where you are. Of course.

Most of my lessons come from fishing. I guess, I should mention that I'm homeschooled. Dad teaches me everything with fishing. Math, science, even slight career training. Though my brother now owns his own Training Center, so I go there more often.

Poor Dad, he really wanted Fiche to take over the family fishing business. He always hoped that his son would take over, but that has been deemed impossible. Now, he hopes for me to take it over. If I never volunteer for the games, then perhaps I will. It's a lovely job, and I can see why dad loves it.

"Sweetie, it's time to go back." My dad roars over the waves, breaking my chain of thought. I speed walk over to the wheel and steer us back.

I watch the scenery we pass, the ocean's giving us a glare off of the sun, and if I look close I can see my reflection. But there's no time for reflections. It's almost time for training. And Fiche hates when I'm late, I end up at the poisonous plants identification station, the punishment station. I could recite what they had like how I can remember how my hand looks. Easy.

I make the vessel stop as we get to the dock, I pull out a fish. I always bring one to the Training Center for Fiche. He's running low on funds for the moment, so I help him by bringing him his supper.

I start to sprint, running the occasional person over. I keep yelling "Excuse me! Get outta my way!" Then, I bump into something solid, a person. I pause for a moment and let out, "Sorry, but I warned you. Next time listen."

"I will, but next time you'll be screaming in agony." Who does he think he is?

"No, it will be you." I reply coldly.

"We'll see," he says "it's not hard to cut someone right down the brittle sensitive core of their soul and shatter it without mercy." I could kill him right here if necessary. But, instead of holding him in the strangle hold I was hoping for, I dropped the fish. Fiche will not like that. Oh well.

Some boy who's with him, that I didn't know piped up "Azura, chill." Azura makes a face, but he stops himself.

But then his mouth opens "That fish struggling for air...reminds me of tributes in the arena, their desperate struggle when in a new and dangerous place that threatens them with a slow, painful death but their struggle is all in vain as their life is sapped from their lungs by mindless killers who don't realize their actions...from what I see that could be you"

I laugh nervously and walk away.

Then I hear the boy who was with him say, "Way to go Azura, you just scared off yet another person."

Of course, I can't help but yell back, "I'm not scared! I'm just needed to go kick some butt!" I start to jog a bit faster.

But that boy yells to me yet, again, "Sorry! Please, forgive him!" I need the perfect retort, like a bold 'no' or 'never going to happen, scum'

But this is what I choose "Maybe!" I start to sprint; I'm going to be late. Oh well.

There's about two hours until the reaping begins. This gives me the perfect amount of time to train with Fiche.

I reach the Training Center right on time. The doors swing open easily after a light push, and I stride in.

"Oceava!" I wait for the caller to show themselves. Although, I already know that it's Fiche. Fiche steps away from his front desk, he's holding a short spear, probably the child spear.

"Are you ready for some fun?" He asks innocently. I can already tell that it won't be fun. "Some kid is starting his training today, please, go help him." He sighs, he didn't expect this. He normally just gets hyperactive kids and a couple of gloomy teenagers. Fiche was expecting better people to come, but he has to work for it. He'll always be determined, that's for sure.

"Fine. Where?" I sigh, I always help him. Even if it's a job I detest. Such as working with children. But hey, I get paid.

"The spear station." He grins madly, and hands me the child spear "He, um, can't lift the other spears." I take the spear and head over. The kid somehow got himself stuck to the dummy, typical. I put down the spear and grab his shirt collar. I bring down the kid, he struggles against me, but my will beat his.

I put him down, and he runs away, out the door. Lousy kid, be serious about training!

"Oceava, get to your training!" Fiche yells from the desk. I already know how little time I have left, about an hour and twenty minutes until the reaping. Which means ten minutes of training. I quickly grab a spear, and launch it at the dummy.

PLUNK! The spear enters the center of the bull's-eye. The heart basically. I shoot again, and again, each time earning a good old plunk! and a bull's-eye.

"Oceava, you have to go now!" Fiche yells. I drop my spear into the rack and sprint home.

After about two blocks I arrive back at home. The front steps creak slightly as I race up them, and up to my bedroom.

My bedroom is painted a nice sea blue, it's calming. My floor is covered by a dark blue carpet with designs that make it look like water. My bed is in the corner; it's made of mahogany, and has a thin blue bedspread on top. There is one pillow, and it is a deep blue.

My closet is in a different corner, opposite my door. It has every nice outfit I own, and every other piece of clothing. I have four things for formal wear, two of which are bathing suits. My hand reaches in and pulls out a sea blue dress. It has two-inch sleeves, and goes to my knees. There is a bead pattern along my waist that resembles waves. It took around one-hundred and fifty fish to be sold to afford this dress, but it's so worth it.

My shoes are simple white flats, with blue ribbon threaded through the top. I stand and walk. Not even the slightest pinch!

When I get down the stairs my mom and dad are waiting. Dad's wearing a suit, and his beard is trimmed and taken care of. Mom has on a sea-green dress on with a small amount of sequins, giving her that extra sparkle.

They quickly nod their heads in my direction, and we begin the walk to the square. Perhaps the last time I walk this way.

When we reach the square the queue is quite short, we're earlier than most others, I guess.

I get through, hassle-free, and get to my section, no problem. The girls around me are chattering away, not caring about me. I guess smelling like fish will do that…

The mayor and escort get on the stage. Our escort Roxanne has jet black hair that goes all the way to her feet, pale blue eyes and tanned skin. Most would call her ugly, I call it fascinating. How does she get her hair so long without tripping? It's a mystery to me.

"Good day, District 4!" The mayor greets, obviously excited. So are we sir, so are we. He starts to read the Treaty of Treason. I pay attention; I simply can't miss my chance to volunteer. _"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "Reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then transferred to a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as 'The Hunger Games'" _He stops for a moment, and then announces our escort "Now, the radiant Roxanne!"

Of course, our escort steps up, and blushes cheerfully. "Wh-why thank y-you, h-how sw-sweet." She giggles like a little girl. "N-now for a-a v-video all the way from the C-c-c-capitol!" She starts to roll a video; it's mainly about the rebellion. But near the end it starts to show the games. Screaming echoes throughout the square, some people cringe or look away in disgust. The wimps. I watch hungrily, I'm a career. I have slight care about others now, but after seeing a lot of this it's easy to push aside.

No matter what anyone says, I am **not** a mindless killer. I just put it up as an act. An act that shall lead to victory.

When the screams die down, and the video rolls to a stop I get ready. I'm volunteering, my mind's made up.

"A-and n-now for the g-girls." She places her hand in and pulls it out with a slip. We won't even let her say the name, we all shout 'I volunteer' as loud as possible and zip to the stage.

I'm proud, and not proud, to say that I joined the fight a few times. I would momentarily stop to punch, or kick someone. But of course, there's a guard at the stage. I wish to say something, but that would give her time. I just go at full speed, and jump; on the way down I extend my leg, and kick her in the face.

With her nose broken, and probably soon-to-be unconscious , I simply step over her, and walk up. I can't wipe this smirk off my face.

"I'm Oceava Lac!" I yell, not even expressing how I'll win, only the arrogant do that. And the arrogant shall die. I don't even know if I'll win anyway. Oh, shut up, mind!

Then it's time for the boys. I see a lot of fighting as well. But one doesn't fight, he just runs. A good tactic I suppose, but it's the way for a wimp.

With a better look I can see that it's that guy I ran into earlier, this shall be an enjoyable games then.

"Azura-Jay Dennis." He mumbles, bowing his head. Volunteers don't do that, you don't get ashamed, or nervous, even though we're human. We don't become weak.

_Only the strong survive. The weak shall be left behind, in the dark._

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**Blue Eyes Arch Angel A/N- **Just want to wish good luck to the other 23 authors, you're all great :)

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**Azura-Jay Dennis, District Four Male**

_**Blue Eyes Arch Angel**_

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**2 hours before the reaping**

Waking up was like any other dreary pointless day of the year.

Given the chance, I would have just lain in my bed alone again today. A change of scenery meant nothing to me; it was all the same. Pure darkness.

My whole world was dark, like hell frozen over and spiced with that choking salty sea air. It was disgusting. Out of every district and I had to have been brought into the miserable existence of this one. The sea air did no wonder for my lungs; the sea itself was wet cold and unfriendly and the children….

They were naïve simpletons who led a pointless life in search for glory in bloodshed and gore. Their glory is just false happiness; somehow I was never able to convince Conch Lark that, now his grave is ironically buried in water.

Unfortunately though, Spritz had decided to break into my room again today and drag me out, away from the cold atmosphere of the house into the blazing sun of the district that did not brighten anything for me, but simply burned my pale and scarred skin. He had some nerve to do this, though strangely I did not bother stopping him. It's just pointless after all. Under all his charm and wit and supposedly good looks, he is just another naïve district 4 career and on this bloody day he just wants to spend some meaningless time with me outside.

Might as well let the dog have his bone.

As we walked, my hand snaked up to his shoulder. He was quite a bit taller than myself. From what he tells me about his looks, he's also another blonde pretty boy. Myself, I'm rather short, average weight. Nothing special at all. Once, I remember asking for Spritz to dye my hair a dark blue. It's the only colour I can remember before my sight and my world vanished completely, and it certainly was sad one. How appropriate it was...

I let go of Spritz for a moment and step back. He doesn't seem to move so I shift round a bit and slowly sneak back-hopefully-behind his line of vision. Then, almost like an instinct, my hand reaches to my arm. I can feel the nails of that hand dig so strongly into the skin, breaking through and letting a little blood seep out. These nails drag themselves through the fragile skin, leaving long thick marks. It doesn't sting. After the first few times it stopped hurting. Well, that was after everything stopped hurting. Long ago, my pain faded along with Conch's. I stop scratching for a moment and gently let my aching hand clamp around the thick sticky substance coating my arm. Old memories flash back.

I may never have actually watched the games but I could sense what was going on simply from the screams, not the mention the sickly sound of blood slowly flowing from your veins. That sound kept rushing through his head, the blood flow from his arms, and Conch's chest…It all drained at once until there was nothing left. For me, this is the only solitude I can find in this disgusting world.

AH!

My trance is quickly broken by that idiot Spritz, and from the feel of his rough hands he's concerned. I wish he would stop that. Breath stops in my throat.

"Azura Jay, what did I tell you about this habit?" he scolds me.

I say nothing. It's not like he expects a reaction so he continues.

"Please, will you stop harming yourself. Just, try focusing on something else" he says. For some reason, he touches the smooth fabric of the cloth on my eyes. Everything tenses.

The pressure of his hands then suddenly fades as he lets go. Then, he lets out one of those annoying, cheeky chuckles of his.

"Hey, maybe you could focus on this!"

I can't see what he's referring to but knowing him he's making a shallow gesture and is pointing to his body.

"Shut up" I manage to mutter back. It irritates me to no end when he talks about himself. I have never seen him once and deeply hate his trying to save me in any form. It's useless.

_Then why do I let him?_

"Excuse me, get outta my way!"

There is only a split second after this reaches my ears as a sharp pain slams in my chest, knocking me back. The pain rushes out quickly and I'm just left confused, and not to mention seriously unhappy. Reaching out my pale hands, I search pointlessly for whoever this mysterious assailant is. If it's Spritz I will unwillingly forgive him, anyone else and they have given me one more reason to hate life.

"Sorry, but I warned you. Listen next time" a female voice seems to arrogantly speak in front of me.

Doing what I usually do to strangers I hiss and muster an angry look, but when I don't hear her scampering away like any other pathetic child I speak up.

"I will, but only because you'll be screaming in agony" I eventually breathe out. Deep down I know I'm not even joking.

"No, it will be you" this girl somehow retaliates. She's feisty. I hate that.

"We'll see, it's not hard to cut someone right down the brittle sensitive core of their soul and shatter it without mercy" I hiss back. Even I can feel the ice of my tone of voice in this statement. Hopefully that broke her. Sometimes it takes true words to bring these oblivious beings into reality. A hand is placed on my shoulder, most likely my pretty boy friend.

He whispers the words "Azura, chill" but as usual his words are useless.

With no feeling, I wait for her response. I don't get any but somehow I know she is certainly not happy with me; that makes two of us.

As the silence continues, something flops beside my feet. It continues to flop around desperately and as I listen carefully, I hear breathing. A fish most likely, Spritz taught me about them. If it came from her then she must be one of those fisherman.

"That fish struggling for air...reminds me of tributes in the arena, their desperate struggle when in a new and dangerous place that threatens them with a slow, painful death but their struggle is all in vain as their life is sapped from their lungs by mindless killers who don't realise their actions...from what I see that could be you" are my final words to her.

Spritz places a hand back on my shoulder after I say that. I guess he could notice a change in my tone.

There is silence for a moment, then the girl laughs nervously. Her footsteps crunch on the grass and fade until they are even out of range of my hearing.

And another one gone. They always walk away.

"Way to go Azura, you just scared off yet another person" Spritz scolds me. I shrug it off easily, until the girl yells back

"I'm not scared! I'm just needed to go and kick some butt!"

I sniffle, but then look down hoping Spritz didn't hear that. Emotions clog my mind, so I forcefully grab Spritz and drag the pain of love away, all the while with him yelling

"Sorry! Please forgive him!"

I don't need forgiving. You can't even get forgiveness in this world.

"Maybe!"

…I stop.

She just shouted 'maybe'.

She didn't mean it.

Or did she?

As usual I just shrug it off and continue. I've said it before. I hate kindness.

* * *

**The Reaping**

Another year, another reaping.

After that little encounter with that unusual girl, Spritz had dragged me back to his house. I haven't spoken since then. He had simply dressed me in a silk blue shirt and trousers to match. He told me to look 'as cute as I always am' at the reaping today. I really wish he would stop giving me false optimism.

"Hey, Azura" he mumbles beside me. I don't bother speaking but I turn my face towards his face. I get confused when I don't hear a reply but then a pair of rough hands snake around my neck and leave something smooth behind. Hesitantly, I snake my own hands up and feel something silky like my outfit.

I want to stab him. I hate it when he's so kind to me. Kindness is just another lie.

Shortly, we are both ushered toward the seventeen year old boy's area. Spritz stays beside me the whole time. Once I feel the noise and disruption settle down, heavy footsteps clomp along the stage to the front. A throaty cough is let out and then a male voice begins to speak. It must the mayor.

He starts off the usual monotonous routine with a false "good day", then continues on to read out the treaty of treason. None of that stands out for me

My attention is partially brought back as the actual reaping begins. I can hear the mayor step backwards and a lighter pair of footsteps takes his place.

"And now, the radiant Roxanne!"

Must be our escort.

"Wh-why thank y-you, h-how sw-sweet" she compliments him. She has quite a soft voice. Nothing like that girl from earlier.

"N-now for a-a v-video all the way from the C-c-c-capitol!"

She then lets out an annoying giggle, much like Spritz when he laughs, then plays the normal biased, exaggerated capitol video for us. For the most part, the words escape me and I lose myself in dark boredom.

Then something caught the attention of my ears.

Screaming. Familiar screaming of a young sixteen year old male.

They are showing some clips of last year's games which could only mean…

Conch.

The video ends shortly but the screaming still echoes through my ears. In an instant I am lost again in my dark fantasy, just Conch and I.

The girls are first so I don't bother listening. Because this idiotic district thrives on bloodshed, she asks for volunteers. All at once I can feel and hear the rush of many girls eager and willing to participate.

Such a pointless struggle.

In the end, someone makes it up there and announces their name.

"Oceava Lac!" her voice rings out through the area. It's…familiar.

Wait, it's that arrogant girl from before.

I laugh under my breath. I guess I was right after all. She is just another mindless killer.

The boys are next.

Just as she finishes stuttering her sentence, Conch takes over my thoughts. Sprinting now that my impulsiveness has taken over, I reach the stage before any other boy can, and just to be safe I hiss at them. I can hear all of them step carefully back away from me. They're all just scared of me, the cowards, and they call themselves careers.

I don't hear the familiar breathing of Spritz. He must have been too confused to do anything about it. After all, he wouldn't understand; I have something that needs to put be to rest. I smile sadly, but keep my head low so no-one sees it. A strong hand grips tightly to my arm and I feel myself being dragged in the right direction next to the girl. A low growl indicates she is not happy to see me again.

She asks me my name. I just mumble "Azura Jay Dennis" to her and look away.

After the final statements, which seem to take ages due to the escort's stuttering, we finally shake hands. Blindly, I place mine out and wait her hand.

But it's not what I expect. Instead of a rough, sarcastic shake it's normal. Hissing, I pull away. The warmth of human contact is yet another false thing I hate.

_Then why did I like it when Spritz touched me?_


	6. District Five Reapings

**A/N**- Howdy everyone, here we have it the next reaping. So sorry for the delay but unfortunately Lydia (TheOnlyUltimateGinger) deleted her reaping by accident when she tried to send it to me, but we finally have the next reaping put together.

Two things I should mention before we get going with this, first off Lydia's reaping is short, much shorter than everyone else's, this doesn't mean it isn't good, I've read it, trust me it's really good. But given the circumstances she is allowed to keep it the way it is, so I don't want anyone giving her bad reviews about how short it is. You can give one that goes something along the lines of: 'Even though it was short it was still good _blah blah blah_' but no one can be rude to her.

The final thing is that the D5 Female was created by Acereader55 and is his tribute, but due to several reasons Ace unfortunately couldn't write his reaping, and will not be writing again during this story so we have the wonderful d11olive-13 author of Neon Edison writing his reaping, and I will be writing his capitol chapter :D

Alright that's enough of me, here we go everyone ... THE DISTRICT FIVE REAPINGS! XD

* * *

**Zedock Conduit, District Five Male**

_**TheOnlyUltimateGinger**_

* * *

I wake up before it's even light, my eyes snapping before my brain can fully register what's happening. It takes a few seconds for me to realise why I'm so scared, to work out why my heart's racing and my hands are sweating. It's reaping day.

I walk through my small house as quietly as I can; my father won't be up yet, I doubt he'll get up at all today. He always tries to forget reaping days, and heaven forbid he try to talk to me about anything more emotional than day-to-day trivialities. I prefer it this way though, I don't want him to know that I'm scared, I'm fine with him thinking I'm his normal, perfect son.

My footsteps fall lightly on the wooden floor, far too lightly for someone of my size. It's one of the small things I've learnt to do to stop people noticing me as much. With my fiery hair and abnormal height I have to do what I can to stop people from seeing me, after all, if they don't notice me then they can't hurt me, right?

I force myself to eat before changing into my outfit, plain, neutral colours to blend in. I run my hand though my unruly hair before deciding to leave it. There are far more important things to worry about right now.

I have no idea how I managed to pass the hours between then and the reaping. Every second felt like an hour, but with every minute that passed I could feel my life slipping away. What if I get picked? What would happen to my father? He can barely bring himself to work as it is; if I get chosen then the fragile façade he's built up will crumble. I feel like I should be with him, reassuring him that there's only a small chance that I'll be chosen, that I'm going to be fine.

But I can't.

I can't break the silence that we both work so hard to maintain. I can't let him know that there's a small treacherous part of me that doubts that I'll be returning home tonight. I have to be strong.

I'm so scared.

I can't remember the walk to the town centre, I know I got there uninterrupted but the familiar route blurred as I walked it, the view that was as big a part of my life as school was became a passing myriad of colours. I can't concentrate on anything but the fear settling heavily at the pit of my stomach. I make my way slowly to the male section and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The mayor's voice drones on, contrasting sharply to the exuberant babbling of the district five escort. Antonia something, I think. Everything goes quiet as they pick out the name of the female tribute, a small girl. Alyssa Wright. I'd seen her around but never really noticed her. She looks so young as she walks onto the stage, so confused and helpless. I feel sick knowing that in a few weeks she'd probably be dead.

And then I hear my name.

"Zedock Conduit!"

I feel the fear flash across my eyes but I force it away; knowing that everyone can see this on the screen. My father can see it.

The crowd parts for me as I walk to the steps; I have to fight the urge to laugh at the pity and relief on everyone's faces. It all feels so surreal, as if I'm watching myself from far away.

I'm brought back to reality when I reach the steps that should take me to the stage. My vision swims and they dance away from me so I can't tell where they really are. I knew I should've worn my glasses but I didn't want to look weak. Although if I trip over I'm hardly going to look strong; but I probably should get used to not wearing glasses for the games.

My insignificant thoughts take me to the stage, my fear still quelled. They force me to shake hands with the other tribute but I can't meet her eye. She may end up being my ally but for now, the thought of having to kill her forces me to try and keep my distance.

The peacekeepers take us to separate rooms and I wait for someone, anyone to turn up to say goodbye to me. I don't know if anybody will, I don't know if I want them too. I don't want to see my father, but I do want to see him. I can't bear the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to him but I know it will hurt him to see me here.

Hours seem to pass as I sit there, not thinking, not moving for fear that any sudden movement will break my composure and I'll have to face the full force of what's happening.

Nobody comes.

Maybe it's better this way; if my father can separate himself from me then my death won't hurt him as much. My death won't hurt anyone, I won't make people cry and I won't cause anymore hurt in this cruel time. This strange thought comforts me.

I don't matter. I'm just another name, another tribute, another corpse. Nobody will remember me in ten years time; I might as well not exist. They just need me to go out there and die. Next year someone else will take my place in the games, tomorrow there'll be someone else sitting in my seat at school. I'm replaceable.

I'm nobody.

I'm nothing.

I miss my Dad.

* * *

**Alyssa Wright, District Five Female**

_**Written by d11olive-13, submitted by Acereader55**_

* * *

I wake up to another morning in District 5, I look to my alarm clock and press the button just one minute before it is set to wake me up. It's just seven o'clock but I decided to get up early this morning, my family has been kind of anxious all week in preparation for the Reaping that will be held this morning, I think a nice breakfast will be just the thing to cheer them up.

I don't bother to get dressed out of my short, grey nightgown before I head down our narrow staircase to the kitchen, it has worn black tiled flooring and the walls are painted a calming ocean blue color. I whip out a cooking pan and grab five eggs out of the fridge, one for each of the five members of my family. As the eggs are cooking I set the table and get out the jug of milk, our supply is dwindling and I make a mental note to go out and get some more after the Reaping ceremony. Finally I put on the kettle and boil some water for my mother's tea.

I walk quietly up the staircase and stop at the second door on the left, my little brothers' room. Shane and Patrick are both fourteen years old and look very much identical, the only distinguishing detail is that Patrick has a large freckle just under his right eye. I open the door and reach Shane's bed first, and carefully shake him awake. As soon as his ocean blue eyes open I walk over to Patrick's bed and do the same. I tell them to come downstairs for breakfast and they both grump their understanding but take their time getting out of bed.

Next I move to the last door in the hallway where my parents sleep and knock firmly on the solid oak door. I talk through the door and tell them to come down for breakfast and my mother responds, telling me that they'll both be down in a moment.

I head back down to the kitchen and pour Patrick and James each a glass of milk from the jug. I place a teabag in both my mother and father's mugs and remove the kettle from the stovetop. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and look up to see my mother is the first one down. Her blonde hair looks nearly flawless even though she just got out of bed and her blue eyes widen in surprise when she sees the breakfast I made.

"What's all this Alyssa?"

"Just something to do, and I figured that we would all need a little bit of excitement for today."

Her thin lips curl into a warm smile and she walks over to pull me into a hug, her chin rests on my head since she is a few inches taller than me and we stay like this until Shane and Patrick stomp down the stairs. Shane is first and his blonde hair is very messy on the left side, his eyes are still dazed with sleep and he looks around in surprise at the kitchen. Patrick follows him, rubbing the sleep out of his own wide eyes, he trips on the last step and falls with his legs sprawled out behind him.

"Nice going genius," Shane laughs as Patrick picks himself up off the floor and grabs a seat at the table. Shane sits down as well and I fill each of their plates with a freshly cooked omelette. Mother pours boiling water into her mug and dunks her teabag around in the liquid until it becomes a translucent brown color. She sits down in the chair across from Shane and helps herself to an omelette. We sit like this, sipping our drinks and nibbling on our food until we hear father step hastily down the stairs.

He is already dressed in a long sleeve navy shirt and grey pants and is running his hand through his short blonde hair. He grabs an orange from the fruit bowl and begins to march out the door.

"Dad? I made breakfast, can't you stay and eat with us?" I ask him, since my father works so much he is almost never at home with the family. Today though I assumed he would eat with us because work is cancelled for the Reaping holiday.

"Sorry sweetheart, I'm meeting with the boss for a last minute meeting regarding the new machinery that's coming in, I'll have to meet you at the Reaping later on," he says over his shoulder as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

Mother looks at me and must see the disappointment in my eyes, "he's doing his best Alyssa, remember he has to work harder than ever now since I lost my job, don't be so hard on him."

I know she's right, our family has never really been poor enough for us to have to take out tesserae but since mother lost her job we have had to cut back on a lot of things. Still I can't help but feel abandoned, surely if he wanted to he could make time for us, I'm starting to think he just doesn't want to anymore.

We finish our breakfast and mother tells us to go upstairs and get ready for the Reaping while she cleans up. I offer to help but she insists that I go get ready too so I hurry up the narrow staircase behind the twins and turn into my bedroom.

I'm lucky enough not to have to share my bedroom, it's small but functional and last summer we had enough money leftover that I was able to paint it my favourite color, sky blue. My single bed is set up in the far corner of the room and the only other furniture that occupies the small bedroom is a wooden dresser that sits right beside the doorway. I open the top drawer and choose a white tank top with a couple of ruffles at the collar and place it neatly on the edge of my bed. Next I choose a light purple skirt from the second drawer and a pair of brown sandals from under my bed. I change quickly and scurry into the tiny bathroom to do my hair. After many different tries at styling my locks I give up and decide to leave it down. I brush it out and pat down the top before I am finally satisfied with how it looks.

I walk downstairs and give my mother a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door to meet my friends. I spot the backs of Jake and Diana as they walk down the street towards the Town Square and I run to catch up with them.

"There you are! We were wondering when you'd finally show!" Diana says with a laugh showing off her perfect white teeth, she is one of those people who is just effortlessly gorgeous. She has long, thick brown hair and wide brown eyes, she is two inches shorter than me but what she lacks in height she makes up for in personality.

"Yeah, finally decided we were worthy of your presence Your Majesty?" Jake snorts, he is my best guy friend and never fails to lighten the mood. He has shaggy blonde hair and narrow green eyes, he is the same height as me and pretty scrawny, though if you ask him he just has "lean muscle."

"I decided that I would give you another chance to prove your worthiness," it feels good to joke around with my two best friends. Even though there is only a tiny chance at any of us being reaped there is always that chance. Diana, Jake and I all have five entries this year, not huge chances but nothing to laugh off either.

We reach the identification table a few minutes later and stand in line with the rest of the district kids. Finally it's my turn and I step up to the table, the Peacekeeper asks for my hand and I realize only now that I am shaking, she inserts a sharp point into my fingertip and I can't stop myself from flinching. She appears satisfied with the results and shoos me off to the other side to join my section. I quickly find Diana and stand in the spot next to her.

As the Mayor takes the stage I look over to see that my friend's teeth are biting into the skin of her lips and tears have begun to well up in her dark eyes. I reach up and give her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, she turns to look at me and gives me a thankful smile.

I find myself looking for Jake in the seemingly endless crowd of children and teens, I am about to give up when I hear the voice of our escort Antonia Gilder calling out the name of the female tribute. I am about to turn to give Diana an "I told you that you wouldn't get picked" smile when it finally registers that the name that's been called isn't just anyone's name. Alyssa Wright, that's my name.

I swallow hard and take a step forward before my legs nearly collapse under me, I feel my lip quivering and will myself not to cry, not in front of all these people. I manage a few more shaky steps before I am half-carried to the stage by two white-clad Peacekeepers. Once I reach the bottom of the steps I have regained enough strength in my legs to walk up and stand beside Antonia. For the first time I really get a good look at her, she has dark blonde hair that is spiked up at all angles and dark skin. Her arms and legs are covered in tattoos that were created to look like flowers. Her puffy lips form an overly cheerful smile as she skips over to the second glass bowl.

"Zedock Conduit!"

The name is unfamiliar to me but I do remember seeing the tall seventeen year old around the district sometimes. He has red hair and deathly pale skin, his green eyes are wide in shock but he quickly recovers and puts on a brave face as he walks up to the stage to join Antonia and I.

"Now please give a huge round of applause for District Five's newest tributes!" Antonia exclaims as she smiles brightly and waves to the crowd, "now shake hands you two!"

We obediently shake hands and then stand awkwardly onstage until we are escorted into the Justice Building by a small army of Peacekeepers. I am shoved harshly into a tiny room that holds no more than a couch and a couple of old bookshelves.

I look at the walls of the room and try to get myself to stop shaking when the door bursts open and my parents walk in. My mother's blue eyes are rimmed with red from crying and my father holds a blank expression, looking just past me with his still eyes.

Shane and Patrick follow in behind them, their usually happy personalities are now vanished and they look like they had just walked in on a funeral. Only then do I realize that that is exactly what they must be thinking, that they are walking into a room with a person who is soon to be dead. I would be upset that they would think that, if I wasn't thinking it myself.

I know I have very slim chances of coming out alive, I have no skills that would help me in the arena, I am relatively smart and get good grades in school but I never have had a test on how to survive in the wilderness with twenty-three other kids who are trying to kill you.

This realization brings forth the tears that I had managed to hold back and I bury my face into my palms, my breaths come in short gasps and I forget that I am not alone until I feel my mother's arms wrap around me.

"Shhh, don't cry, you have so much to offer, you're kind and trustworthy, loyal. You can get people to help you, you can get sponsors. You can live," this attempt at boosting my confidence just makes me cry harder and I feel the wetness on my shoulder as my mother cries silently into the fabric of my shirt. My brothers stand by the far wall of the room and just look at us for a while, as if they are unsure what to say. I get up and go towards them, they both rush over before I can reach them and envelope me in a tight hug.

"Stay safe Aly," Patrick whispers to me just before they both release me from the comforting hug.

Next I walk cautiously up to my father who has not moved from his place by the door, he stares at the far wall and when I hug him he doesn't react. I whisper a soft goodbye to him but he remains silent and unmoving. A Peacekeeper rushes into the room and ushers my family out the door, claiming our time is up.

I remain standing where I was, right beside where my father had stood. Why hadn't he said goodbye to me? Could he not have even managed a hug before I leave him, possibly forever? More tears coat my cheeks and I don't even make an effort to wipe them away this time.

The door reopens and I find myself hoping it is my father hurrying in to hug me and tell me everything will be okay. I am somewhat disappointed when I first see Jake and Diana walk in but soon I find myself smiling despite everything that has happened. They both bring me in for a tight group hug and I find myself crying all over again, how can the capitol expect me to leave my friends, my family, my life? It's just unthinkable.

I am released from the embrace and find myself staring at people who look like my friends, the features are the same, but they just couldn't be Jake and Di. Their expressions are grim and their eyes are red-rimmed, never have I seen anything but smiles and funny expressions occupying their faces, never. For some reason more tears spill out of my ocean blue eyes, seeing them mourning me just makes this all the more real. I'm going into the Hunger Games, I, Alyssa Wright, am going to die.


	7. District Six Reapings

**A/N-** Just wanna say thanks to DA Member Hogwarts for reminding me to actually update today, I can't believe I nearly forgot ... ahhh me so stupid xD

But anyway not really got much to say for this chapter, the authors are all hopefully working on their Capitol chapters so wish them luck for that, hope you like the D6 Reapings :D

* * *

**Jade Reranem, District Six Female**

_**Katnissfire87654**_

* * *

_"Mari, why do you have to go? Can't you stay and play with me?" I ask at the age of 5._

_"Jade, I have to go to work with dad so we can have dinner tonight." My older sister, Mari, replies, ruffling my hair._

_I grab onto her legs. "NO MARI!" I scream._

_She pulls away and bends down. "I only have to go for a little bit, I'll be home soon."_

_I reluctantly let go and she and my dad walk out, shutting the door behind them._

_I sit on the floor, playing with the doll that Mari made for me until I hear screams._

_"Mommy!" I yell, running through our small house. I find her sitting in the kitchen reading something. She looks up at me calmly. Nothing appears to be wrong here. There are no clues as to where the screaming was coming from._

_"Jade, what is it?" She asks, putting down whatever she was reading and picking me up._

_I stare up at her with wide eyes, "I heard screaming Mommy!" Burying my head in her chest, I start to cry._

_Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door. Mommy's eyes widen and – putting me down first – she hurries to open the door. A man dressed in white stands there and motions for Mommy to follow him. Putting me down, she goes out to talk with the man. She comes back in a few minutes later, weeping, before pulling me in and planting a kiss on my forehead. Mari and daddy never came home that night._

_I never saw them again._

* * *

I sit up, breathing hard. That dream haunts me so often, never truly leaving me. It never gets any better; a new wave of horror engulfs me every time I re-experience it. It was a few years later, when my mother finally told me the story of that night, finally decided that I was old and mature enough to know the truth. You see, there was an accident at the train factory where Mari and my father worked, meaning that a very heavy train that was currently under construction fell off the platform where it had been stationed. Unfortunately, the staff working on the train happened to be in the way when the train collapsed and most of the workers had died.

Two of those unfortunate people being my sister and father.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling until I hear an insistent pounding on my bedroom door. A few seconds later, my best friend Cally barges in and plops herself down on the edge of my bed. Cally is actually quite pretty, with long red hair and bright green eyes, but she often gets teased for the freckles all over her face.

She sighs in exasperation, "Come on Jade! What are you going to wear?"

"Ugh, I don't know." I mumble, hiding my face in my pillow.

Cally yanks the pillow away from me and pushes me onto the hard cold floor. "Ouch!" I yell, smacking her with the pillow. Cally giggles and pulls me up and over to my tiny closet. She starts pulling clothes out, muttering, "No, no, definitely not," and throwing them onto my bed. "Girl, why do you even have this?" She questions, holding up a bright pink dress. I take it from her hands and throw it into my brother's bedroom.

"JAAAADE!" I hear my five year old brother Sam scream from the next room. Clearly, he found it as much of a fashion disaster as Cally did.

I laugh and turn back toward Cally who is currently admiring a beautiful forest green dress.

"I didn't even know I had that." I mutter, running my hands over the soft fabric.

My best friend laughs good naturedly, "Well, go put it on!" She says, pushing me toward the awfully small bathroom that my family shares.

I undress and slip the soft green fabric over my head. It fits me perfectly. The skirt puffs out, and the green shimmers in the light. I walk out of the bathroom and Cally gasps. "Oh Jade!" she exclaims. "You look beautiful!"

"Thanks," I say, smiling. "Now come on, we've gotta do something with your hair." she says, pushing me toward the bathroom.

She takes a brush and runs it through my long black hair. I wince as she hits tangles. When Cally finishes brushing my hair, she braids the front and lets the rest flow free. She pins Mari's old satin white rose on the braid and steps back.

"Cally, you really should be a hairdresser." I flatter her, admiring Cally's work. She takes a small bow, giggling, and we head down the old rickety stairs to the kitchen.

* * *

My brother is sitting at the table, eating my mum's awful breakfast oatmeal. Wrinkling my nose, I walk over to mum. She looks up, a brief expression of surprise on her face before she smiles.

"Jade!" she exclaims, hugging me. "Oh," She lets out a little noise of surprise as she sees my outfit. "I see you found your grandmother's dress." She says, looking at me with wide eyes. "Oh, don't you just look beautiful, sweetheart." Hugging me again, she sends me and Cally off with a friendly little wave. "Run along now, you two don't want to be late!" Her voice is almost cheerful as she shoos us out of the door.

The day is really overcast, with lots of dark clouds.

"I hope it doesn't rain." Cally says, walking next to me. Nodding, I stare at the ground. "Come on, lighten up!" she says, nudging me on the shoulder.

I shove her off and yell, "CALLY! HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO LIGHTEN UP ON REAPING DAY! IT'S VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE UNLESS YOU LIVE IN A FREAKING CAREER DISTRICT!" She jumps back, looking hurt. "Sorry Cally." I mutter.

"It's okay Jade." She says, now walking beside me again.

We reach the square and stand in line to check in. "Next!" the Peacekeeper yells. Stepping forward, I wince as the Peacekeeper jabs me in the finger and presses it onto a piece of paper. He waves me on and I stand in the rather large group of fourteen year olds. Slowly, the square fills, with scared twelve year olds, eighteen year olds who seem quite happy that they've almost escaped from this nightmare and those who have escaped the Reaping standing outside the roped off area, desperately hoping that their family and friends will not get Reaped.

I catch my mum and Sam's eyes and slightly smile. Mum waves and looks back at the stage. A few seconds later Cally joins me. Our mayor, Hallia Ennis walks on-stage, holding Marisol's hand. Marisol is Hallia's four year old daughter. She taps on the microphone and awful feedback squeals throughout the square. Marisol covers her ears and Hallia bends down to give her a quick hug before putting her down on the chair next to the escort, Snowdrop Marvel. Snowdrop gives the child a look of disgust before scooting away. Hallia starts to read the Treaty of Treason and when she finishes, Snowdrop steps up.

"Welcome, we-" Snowdrop is cut off by a huge crash of thunder followed by rain. Lots of rain. Snowdrop flips her now wet silver hair over her shoulder and begins again. "Welcome welcome!" Cally groans next to me. "The time has come to select one very lucky girl, and one very lucky boy, for the honor of representing District Six in the thirteenth Hunger Games! Ladies first!" She chirps, straightening her pink dress which matches perfectly with her eyes. The diamonds embedded in her cheeks light up for a moment in a huge flash of lightning. She looks like some sort of alien that had decided to visit us mere humans.

She grabs a slip of paper out of the glass ball containing all of the girl's names, and walks back to the microphone with it. She opens the paper, which is now quite wet, and reads the name. I'm wishing to no end that it's not me, that it's not me.

"Jade Reranem!"

It's me.

I swallow hard and start the walk to the stage. Cally grabs my arm, but a Peacekeeper standing close by slaps her hand.

As I walk to the stage, I feel all eyes on me. I looked so beautiful earlier, but now my dress is soaking wet and my hair is no better. Walking - or rather, slipping – up the stairs, I stand by Snowdrop who smiles at me with her overly white teeth.

I see mum in the crowd, who has started crying.

"Dale Cash!" Snowdrop calls. I hadn't even noticed her walking over to the other glass ball. Nobody moves. "Dale Cash, where are you?" Snowdrop calls in a sing-song voice, like she's playing a game of hide-and-seek. A skinny boy with messy hair walks up slowly and stands on the other side of Snowdrop.

"Here you have it ladies and gentlemen of the lovely District Six. Your two tributes, Jade and Dale!" Snowdrop then pushes the microphone into the boy's face and asks him how he feels about being the lucky boy. He pauses, and then blurts out, "Umm…this is kinda ruining my day."

"Lovely!" Snowdrop chirps. "Shake hands!" Dale grabs my hand a bit too tightly and pulls away almost immediately.

* * *

When we reach the Justice Building, a Peacekeeper shoves me into a room. I look around, taking in the red velvet chairs and ornate pictures of past District Six mayors lining the walls. I run my hand over the chair, but decide not to sit down as I am still quite wet from the rain.

"Jade!" I hear Sam yell. He runs in and tackles me with a hug. "Don't go Jade, don't!" I pick him up and stroke his dark brown hair.

"It's okay Sam, I'll be home soon." I say gently, setting him down. I turn towards mum.

"Jade, darling, I want you to have this." She says, holding out a necklace. It has three charms on it, the letters M, J, and S, each one encrusted with a different gem. The first letters of each of our names. "Thanks mum," I say, pulling her into a hug. She hugs me tightly until Peacekeepers come in to lead me to the train.

"NO JADE, DON'T GO!" Sam yells, holding on to my legs. I fight back tears. This is my dream, but in real life.

"It's okay Sam." I choke out. "I'll be home." I hug him and walk out, hoping desperately that I will be able to keep my promise to my little brother.

* * *

**Magicbl00d A/N-** Hey! It's Holly here/MagicBl00d. Well here is Dale's reaping! I actually am very nervous as this is my first time ever writing anything like this or posted something I've written online and I've already seen such a high standard from you guys :)

Well done everyone so far and good luck to the rest!

I'd greatly appreciate your comments.

* * *

**Dale Cash, District Six Male**

_**Magicbl00d**_

* * *

For once the overcrowded and run down area of District Six that I call my home is completely quiet and I couldn't be more appreciative of the solitude.

The silence could only mean one thing and that of course is the dreaded reaping day.

When I was two years old the world as we all knew it changed forever. That change is the Hunger Games. Every year a representative from the Capitol shows up here to take two of us away to our death.

I hate the Capitol if I ever trouble myself to think about it deeply and I usually push that stuff aside. It is not only that they are a tyrannical government and not only that what they are doing is oppressive and barbaric but to me their biggest crime is the abuse and misuse of the extensive technological advances that they have at their finger tips. They could do amazing things with their means and their power but instead they use it to their advantage and to everyone else's disadvantage. That is humans for you. I know there is nothing I could do as a helpless 15 year old boy from the somewhat lowly District six but I also know that within time something is going to happen to bring the Capitol down. No evil can last forever.

My mind is not occupied today by our Ruling Capitol however but as usual it is concentrated on my school work. I've taken the golden opportunity granted to me by the unusual quiet to finish my Science project which is an essay about an invention that I feel would benefit mankind the most. Strangely I have found myself going in a different direction than I usually would. I am all for technology and making the world a better place with the tools that technology offers us but in this essay I have expressed the view that what we really need is peace and understanding in today's world and that there is not one invention that could fix the state of our world today.

It may be a strange take on the assignment but I have never been one to do things normally.

On reflection, what I have written may verge on what they would call "rebellious" or even Anti Capitol. I chew on my lip as I always do when in deep thought and brush the dirty blonde fringe back from my face. My glasses keep on slipping down my nose. They are sitting at an even more awkward angle than usual today due to yet another breakage. This one believe it or not had not come from my own clumsiness as it so often does but from yet another punch to the face.

Stupid people never do like it when you are honest with them and you would think I would have learned that by now. Sadly not.

I decide it does not matter what my words would seem like to the Capitol. They'd never read it. The idea of them reading an essay from some random boy in Six is bizarre and I can't help laughing out loud in my usual wheezy chuckle. I really do have a rare sense of humour at times.

I read over my work thoroughly and make amendments until I am satisfied and decided to include a few concluding sentences.

Just as I'm about to write the remaining words my sister Alyson's shrill voice cuts in to my concentration -

"Dale! You need to go right now! Mom made me promise to make sure you're not late this year – again!"

Damn it! My arm shoots out in an involuntary movement of shock and sends my pen upward and tearing through the sheet of paper. Great. I'll definitely have to re-do that page.

I hear her signature exaggerated sigh and hurried footsteps and within seconds she's appeared in my door way frowning. So much for peace and silence.

"Dale! You aren't actually doing homework on reaping day are you?"

She makes education sound like a crime, good old Alyson.

"Of course I am! Just imagine if I were selected today and had to leave home with unfinished work left behind!" The thought just about gives me a migraine.

She tutts impatiently while shaking her head making her golden curls bounce around her shoulders.

"Whatever. I'm going to meet my boyfriend anyway so I'll just see you after, I guess. You have literally ten minutes to get down there!"

Typical Alyson. She never wants to be seen in public with me. I don't blame her altogether. Even I know I'm rather embarrassing at times.

"Oh yeah Alex is it? Okay then ..." I answer dismissively.

She snorts impatiently and throws her head back as dramatically as ever. "No, Dale! Alex was my boyfriend 2 months ago! It was Harry after that and then Kyle and now Thomas!"

She says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world but honestly I am baffled. Four boyfriends within 2 months! I'm surprised even she can keep track of all that.

"Err, oh yeah. The dumb one who screws up his face in concentration every time he speaks." I blurt out.

Maybe I shouldn't have said that. According to Alyson and most people for that matter, I can be very blunt with my words. I can't help it! Dealing with people is not one of my strong points. Neither is being normal, but what is "normal" anyway.

Alyson narrows her icy blue eyes so like our mothers. That's always a sign of foreboding, usually the first step before unleashing her thunderous temper.

Instead however she rolls them and sighs while shaking her head as if to say having such an awkward little brother pains her greatly.

"If you actually took the time to converse with normal human beings then you would get to know him and see that he is actually a great guy."

_Aren't they all?_

"Hey, just stating my opinion. And now you can't say I don't take an interest in you and all of your boyfriends."

"It's like talking to a brick wall at times with you!"

_That's rich coming from the girl who thinks the Capitol of Panem is C._

"And what exactly are you implying by all of my boyfriends?"

Great. How will I answer that one without being insulting? Um... Okay think. Think!

She glares at me expectantly. _Not good with explanations. Not good with explanations!_

"Well you've certainly had a lot." I finally say. _Good one, Dale!_

"Well I mean, not really ... It's just that ... I ..." I hesitate for another few seconds and can practically sense the awkwardness in the room.

"Oh forget it! Maybe if you came out of this room for a while and took your head out of your stupid little books you would understand what love is!"

_Not likely, the thought of love makes me slightly queasy._

"Yeah ... okay, sorry." I offer weakly.

_Me ... in love? Hah! That would be good. I can't even have a full flowing conversation with my own sister so how on earth could I sustain a relationship._

Alyson turns on her heel and flounces out the door. I wait for a few seconds and then the the sound of the heavy front door banging shut confirms her departure to the reapings.

I had better get going too. If I walk my fastest I should be there in time. It's a good thing I have already changed in to some decent clothes for the reapings.

Alyson and I may not always see eye to eye but she is still my sister and I know we love each other even if we don't show it all that much.

We are as different as the night's darkness and the day's light. She is a popular and outgoing 18 year old and I'm a socially awkward 15 year old nerd.

When we were younger we used to be closer and have so many jokes together and even confide in each other but as we got older we drifted apart. Alyson seems to think I am embarrassing and probably a dent in her perfect image. I honestly think she is a bit shallow and puts too much emphasis on her looks and boyfriends but we are still brother and sister.

She'll always be my big sister no matter what. Always.

I get a bit distracted looking over my math homework which I meant to finish when I get home today and can't resist doing a few equations and when I glance at my watch I realise that I only have five minutes to make it to the reaping.

Why do I always do this?

I quickly exit the house and make the short journey from my house to the town square where the dreaded ceremony takes place. I run as fast as I can which is surprisingly fast for someone who doesn't does much exercise.

My lungs burn and my leg muscles feel like they may snap but I know I can't slow.

I do this every year! Why can't I ever be on time! I won't even get to meet up with my friends Nathan, Jamie and Reyna now!

The crowded town's square flies in to my field of vision now and I don't slow until I find myself amongst the crowd of children in their various sections.

I lean forward with my hands supported on my legs to catch a breath and hear something that doesn't make sense.

"Dale Cash, where are you?"

Huh.

The voice has a high pitched sing song like quality and when I look up I know who it has come from.

The bizarre looking white skinned and silver haired Capitol escort on stage repeats my name again and I am utterly confused.

Is this because I am late? I didn't know that the Capitol escort would call out your name if you had been late to sign in for the reapings?

I realise what must be happening when I see the slip of paper in her thin manicured hand and the petite black haired girl standing on stage beside her shaking slightly.

How could this have happened!

I feel as though I am suddenly inside a vacuum. Every sound has been cut off apart from my own beating heart.

My legs make themselves move forward towards the stage and all I can think is why is this happening over and over again like some sort of mantra in my head.

This feels like the time my friend Jamie found an old bottle of whiskey and dared us all to take some. Of course after one drink I was the only one who felt any affect from it, typical me. I felt like I was floating and every sense was numbed. I was aware of the things around me but they all seemed a blur.

The faces of those in the crowd as I make my way pass them seem merged together as one.

As I mount the steps Snowdrop our escort begins to babble in her girly bimbo voice and I barely catch a word of it.

"And here you have it ladies and gentlemen of the lovely district six! Your two tributes, Jade and Dale!"

So the girls name is Jade. She seems like she is fighting to hold it together and despite her trembling shoulders, I can tell she has some type of inner strength.

Snowdrop pushes her microphone in to my face and asks me to tell everybody how I feel about being the lucky chosen boy.

_Lucky?_

I can feel my face reddening already. I hate public speaking of any kind and standing here before the whole district is my idea of torture. It feels like I am being engulfed by a piercing spotlight.

"Umm ... this is kinda ruining my day!" I blurt out stupidly and almost curse myself for being so awkward.

"Lovely!" Snowdrop blurts out. Did she even listen to what I said?

Everything passes in the same blur like dream and soon enough she asks me to shake Jade's hand. We do and I can barely look at her. As I've said before, I am awkward around females.

Jade grips my hand loosely and in my nervous state I grip hers too tightly and then pull away quickly in alarm.

I must look ridiculous up here!

**Fifteen minutes later in the Justice Building**

It still hasn't sunk in properly.

How is it that within less than an hour my life this morning and my life right now are worlds apart?

It feels surreal sitting here in the elaborate and lavish room in the Justice building reserved for the tributes to say their goodbyes.

My parents arrived first and that passed in a blur. My mother cried and my father just kept telling me I am going to be the smartest kid out there and he knows I can make it back.

They said all kinds of emotional stuff and all I could do was sit there and repeat:

"I'll be fine. I'll be fine."

It just didn't feel real. I feel like I am dreaming.

Alyson's visit passed in a blur also. It feels like a distant memory already.

It was quite painful to watch my sister cry and hear her words of regret.

She said she worries that we will never be able to truly know each other now and it is all her fault for not being there for me and for laughing at me for being a nerd. And all I could say was leave it to you Alyson to insult me even when you are being heartfelt.

My two friends Jamie and Nathan were next and along with them Reyna's best friend Jayd.

Yes, even a socially awkward guy like me has to have friends.

They all tried to comfort me, reassure me but for me it still didn't feel real. It felt like I was having a normal conversation with my friends like I do every day.

They left and I watched as the door swung shut behind them with a definite air of finality leaving me with a hollow feeling and with my mind racing. I can't even process the thought that this could be the last time the 3 of us are ever together. It still doesn't feel real.

Why didn't Reyna come in with them? Why is coming in alone? Is she going to tell me something awful like she's dying or something! The thoughts swirl around in my head, clashing with each other like turbulent waves one would see in District four. When something traumatic happens to me I tend to get overwhelmed, my mind goes in to over drive and I start to think the worst.

It's always a downward spiral.

The door flies open and I would have expected someone much stronger by its force but of course It's the small red headed Reyna.

She stands in the doorway for a few agonizing seconds staring at me like a startled deer and then springs forth shakily and collapses right beside me on the couch. She must really be in shock because she has practically sat right on top of me so that I can feel the trembling vibrations caused by her anxious state.

Her nimble hand reaches out, probably by some type of nervous convulsion and ends up resting upon my shoulder. I gasp unbeknownst to myself and almost recoil at this invasion of personal space but think I better not when she is in this state.

"What's up Rey?" I blurt out. The words feel strange and my voice doesn't sound natural. It's strange how within one afternoon that everything has changed. I don't do well with change. I find it hard enough to adapt to everyday life and now this ...

Reyna suddenly bursts in to hysterical sobs and has tears spilling down her face.

_Don't cry! Please don't cry! Oh man ... what do I do ..._

I really can't deal with emotional people, it freaks me out. Talk about awkward.

"Oh Dale, You're being s- so brave!" She manages to splutter before bursting in to another chorus of sobs which wrack her entire thin frame. The sound seems magnified and only adds to my increasing sense of helplessness and panic.

"Am I?" I ask in disbelief, mainly just to have something to say.

She actually giggles a bit at my comment but it comes out more like a hiccough. She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips and to my relief she wipes her eyes dry.

"You're always so clueless aren't you?" she asks and I attempt a smile and she returns it weakly before adapting to a sad almost reluctant expression.

"I can't believe, well I can actually, that you've never even caught on." She says softly while looking down with damp eye lashes.

"Caught on to wh-"I begin to say but my words are cut short abruptly by Reyna's own lips.

She is kissing me! What?!

It happened so suddenly that I don't even have time to react to it. My own lips seem to move of their own accord, kissing her back softly. I haven't even thought to close my eyes!

Just as suddenly as it happened, it ends.

Reyna pulls her face back from mine smiling softly while more tears trace their way down her pale and freckled cheeks.

"Wha- What was that?" I ask her still feeling dazed.

"I kissed you silly. It's taken me 2 years to get up to courage to do that but giving the circumstances, no better time than the present." She says in a gentle voice.

I'm still quite confused. _Why would Reyna want to kiss ME!?_

"Well thanks for that Reyna!" I blurt out stupidly. _Real smooth._

Reyna actually bursts out laughing now and for a moment she sounds like the old Reyna again. The real Reyna.

"Oh Dale! You don't help yourself do you? You don't thank a girl when she kisses you! She kisses you because she wants to, not as some kind of favour."

I feel the colour flood in to my cheeks with embarrassment.

"Well it's not as if I've had much practice with things like this. "

Reyna looks at me intently. Her thin, pale pink lips parted slightly and her light brown eyes shining brightly with tears. She looks like she wants to tell me something else but as with all good things, our time is abruptly ripped away from us by the arrival of a bored Peacekeeper in the door way. He yawns and lazily tells Reyna it's her time to go.

She gives me one last lingering hug and whispers in my ear, "see you, Dale."

_See you?_

_No Reyna._

_No._

_Sadly you probably won't._

"Bye, Reyna."

She lets out one more choked sob and just like that, she is gone and I am left alone once more.

The reality really sets in now but all I feel is ... actually I don't feel anything but numb which really isn't a feeling.

Even my own thoughts aren't making sense anymore.

I have lived my whole life being clueless and oblivious when it came to others. I've always felt disconnected and out of the know when it came to others but how wrong I've been. How naive I have been to feel isolated when I've always been surrounded by those I care about. It hits me now that I have never been alone but the Capitol has changed that.

Change.

There it is again. Oh how I hate change.

From this moment on I am truly alone.

I will die alone.


	8. District Seven Reapings

**A/N-** It's Wednesday people and you know what that means! Another update xD

I am not sure if the next update will be on friday because I haven't heard from the other author for that in weeks ... hopefully she will get back to me soon.

Anyway, not much else to say so I present to you District Seven and the two wonderful yet different tributes! :D

* * *

**TeamKatniss4Ever A/N-** Hey readers of Thirteen! Whew…5,000 words exactly! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! Fir is a rather…unique character and has strange views on life, to say the least. Without further ado…I give you…the D7 male!

* * *

**Fir Hertwig, District Seven Male**

_**TeamKatniss4Ever**_

* * *

A display of red and orange fills my mind in its entirety. The colors sway and emit bright sparks of yellow into the dark sky. I see the silhouettes of trees burning, and faintly, three human shadows, one with the stature of adults and another bearing the height of a mere child. I hear a small, helpless cry, and I realize with terror that I know that voice. And I know exactly who those doomed people are. "Birch," I mutter in revelation and withdrawn fear. That's who. My little sister and my parents, who, as I look out of the window, begin to fall to the ground. With that motion, their bodies turn to ash and they are gone, swept away forever. I begin to shake and cry out their names, still locked in my twelve-year self on that dreadful night. I close my eyes and bang my head against the glass, trying to cause a concussion or anything that will take me away from the present. It doesn't work, and I resort to simply putting my head down to sob in my arms.

"Fir! Fir! Wake up!" Wait, what? Why do a feel a shaking motion on my shoulder, and who is this person telling me to wake up? Oh no, oh _no_! It must be the Peacekeepers coming to take me away. In my slumped position at the window sill, I probably seem asleep. They likely know that I'm an orphan now, and have no family left. I take a deep breath and lift my head.

A stunning light flashes before me and I bring my hands up to my face to shield myself. What is happening? Have those cruel men shot me and am I now flying up to heaven? I slowly lower my hands and open my eyes. A grinning, freckled face stares down at me. "Argh!" I scream. Wait…its just stupid Twig. The nightmare was just that, a nightmare. I shake it off without a second thought. I've gotten used to them, and I don't care anymore. Someone with a shell as hard as mine _wouldn't_ care, right? I'm a different being from the pathetic little slug I was then. I never cry anymore, and any emotion other than malice? Please, that's the definition of showing weakness. It prides me to say that I am much better than that; much better than anybody. I can't control whether or not I am weak or vulnerable in my dreams; it does not determine who I am now.

I change my expression to a harsh glare. "Why did you wake me up?" I snap at Twig. Gosh, he irritates me so much. He looks taken aback at my tone of voice and slightly steps away. Oops…I now remember that have to be nice to him until tomorrow because I'm supposed to be his friend. _Fir_, I remind myself firmly._ If you plan on letting him down hard tomorrow, then you need to tolerate his overly sweet and happy personality for only one more day. He will be the tenth person you've tricked into being your friend then brutally abandon; a number you've been pining to reach! Just relish the image of him blubbering in his bed if you need any more encouragement._

I quickly plaster on a smile to match his. "I mean, thanks for waking me up! I would've been late for my lumberjack shift if you hadn't!" I internally groan. Talking in this cheerful manner makes me sick to my stomach, as if I'm an escort or some other Capitol citizen. Relief at my abrupt change of attitude floods Twig's face.

"Thank God, I thought you were angry at me. Well, if I hadn't you would be late for the Reaping-" The _Reaping_? I completely and wholly forgot that it was today! I'm not scared, obviously, but it just somehow subtly slipped my mind. I love the Hunger Games, and keep up with them every year on the small box television. I wouldn't necessarily want to volunteer, but if I were to be chosen, I don't believe it would be so awful. I mean, I would get a chance to actually torture living people, instead of having to settle on killing trees for my daily dose of excitement. Trees are living, yes, but they won't elicit the same delightful screams and wails as humans. But there's still the possible price of my own life, which holds me back from making any dire decisions. Twig must see the surprise at his statement dawn on my face and he pauses. I readjust my features and wave my hand.

"Go on," I prompt him expectantly, still with a disgustingly sweet smile taking over my mouth, of course.

"Also, you were mumbling in your sleep about someone named Birch and you were thrashing and you

looked like you were having a-" he continues. I know what he's going to say before it comes. All I want to do in this moment is punch him in the nose for a multitude of reasons, the most motivating being to hopefully cause amnesia so he forgets what he had just seen. And on second thought…how did he know I talk and thrash in my sleep? His bunk is on the opposite side of the vast boy's room in the community home, so he couldn't have heard or seen me. Does the he watch me in my slumber? After all, we all have something to hide. I'm basically concealing my whole personality; a small secret like his possible stalker-like qualities is nothing in comparison.

Somehow, I manage to maintain my happy smile. "You must be mistaken," I tell him, cutting him off before he can utter his next words. "Of course I don't talk in my sleep! Must've been someone next to me; how could you be sure when you're all the way across the room and you've only come to wake me up now!" I put emphasis on the last phrase. "Unless, of course, you were here at my bed for longer, which I'm sure isn't the case!" I add a dismissing laugh and a slap on his shoulder, although a little harder than someone who was just being playful would normally do.

He rubs his arm while furrowing his bushy brows in confusion. "But…" he begins to say. Being in no mood to tolerate Twig and wear my cheerful façade any longer, I throw the thin covers off of my body and jump out of bed.

"I have to get ready for breakfast now. I'll see you at the Reaping!" I make my way to the washroom for the males and breathe a sigh of liberation. Finally, I don't have to interact with him anymore and pretend to be kind to him. Now, I'll have the entire day until the Reaping to keep to myself and rejuvenate my worn out acting abilities. When I reach my destination, it is clogged with boys chattering loudly. I don't know them or speak to any of them, so if one stares at me I just shoot them a menacing glare and they shrink back to the group they're talking in.

I pull out the bin under the sinks labeled BOY'S REAPING CLOTHES: AGES 12-15. I sort through them, finding a pale blue blouse and regular brown slacks. What do you expect from a child living at the community home? A freshly ironed tuxedo? It will do; it's not as if I'll be the one going to the Capitol, anyways. I go into one of the stalls and change, then slightly rake through my sandy brown hair with my fingers.

I stare at myself in the huge, grimy mirror that takes up a wall of the washroom. I have to admit that I'm not much of a looker. I have quite average features, with thin pink lips and a well-shaped but too big nose splattered with freckles. My only distinguishing asset is my eyes, colored a deep jade green the shade of the fir tree for which I was named. My parent always told me that…no, I won't think of them. My family is gone now, and contemplating them is weak and useless.

However, I am not very disappointed at my appearance. I would rather be strong-minded, unswayable, and vicious but bear an unremarkable exterior like I do now than gorgeous but pathetically weak. I trace the long scar that runs from the wrist to elbow of my subtly muscular arm. I donned it when I was eight, when I was out practicing axe-throwing in the woods by myself. I don't remember what happened from there, but I ended up returning home with a deep, bloody gash. What I _do_ remember is that it took an extremely long time to heal, not allowing me to throw for months.

I reach the end of my scar and my fingers collide with string. I find that it is a ratty, dirty bracelet, and slide it off to further examine it. I guess that I always have it on but I'm so used to it that I never acknowledge it; I've can't even recall where it came from. I flip it over and see four little wooden beads threaded onto it, each crudely carved with a symbol. F-I-R. Then a misshapen heart.

_I stumble through the door of my small, modest home after a long school day. Birch sits at the small coffee table in the living room, with scissors, string, and beads scattered around her. I survey the untidiness of her project. "Birch, what are you doing?" I ask her sternly. "Look at what a mess you've made! Are Mother and Father home?" She giggles and runs over to me with her hands behind her back._

_"No, but don't worry about the mess. I'll clean it up." She removes her hands with flourish and holds something up to me. "Ta-da! I made you this bracelet all by myself! It even has your name on it!"_

_I take it from her and tie it around my wrist. "I love it!" I tell her. "It's beautiful!"_

_"Will you wear it to school?" she inquires with hopeful eyes._

_"No, on second thought, I hate it," I say sarcastically, pretending to undo the knot. Birch's lower lip begins to quiver and my face softens. "I'm joking, kiddo," I say softly, massaging her shoulder. "Of course I'll wear it. I'll wear it forever."_

I blink and I'm back in the washroom, still staring at the bracelet. I shake my head to get the flashback out of my mind. "Move," someone says behind me. I whirl around. A boy younger than me is standing there with his hands on his hips. "You've been standing at the sink for ten minutes. Move." How dare someone talks to me like that? I am very prepared to give him a hard lecture, but instead, surprising myself, I nod and walk to the waste bin.

I position my hand at the opening and start to release the bracelet. _I shouldn't have it_, I say to myself. _It's weakness to keep it. Any promise I made to her back then doesn't matter. She's dead now. _I drop it in, and watch it fall to nestle between tissues and paper towels. I try to make myself look away, but it's impossible. My eyes are glued to the bracelet. Why can't I just let it go?

I figure that if I loiter here any longer, I won't have time to eat breakfast. I scan my eyes around to ensure that no one is looking at me, and swiftly reach in to scoop out the jewelry. I put it back on and walk out of the room. _It's fine what you did, Fir, _my mind laments. _It was out of necessity. If you hadn't retrieved it, you would still be next to the waste bin, which is unprogressive. You'll throw it out later._

I go down the stairs to the dining hall and grab a plate of bland cereal and milk. I allot myself two brief minutes to eat and stuff the soggy grain flakes down my throat. I usually sit with Twig, but today he ate early. Thank goodness for that; he gets especially jittery on Reaping day and can't sleep in. If I'm here tomorrow, I will no longer have to dine with him or _talk_ to him, for that matter. It makes me smile just thinking about it.

I finish my meal and step out of the dark community home into the open. The sky is grey and it seems like there is going to be a storm in the near future. Hopefully during the Reaping; I don't care about getting wet and it will be worth it to see our escort's makeup run.

I travel by foot to the woods on the east side of the District, where my job takes place. I first got it when I was fourteen years old, and have held it ever since. Cutting down trees is one of the best parts of my day; it's so fun to know that I am killing something living. If only the Hunger Games was only me trying to murder others; the thing holding me back is that there will be people trying to murder me as well.

I arrive at the forest and Grenald, our boss, is standing in front of the group of my colleagues. I try to quietly slip into the group, but he notices my tardiness. "Fir," he says. All heads turn to me. "Late? Now what excuse do we have today?" I put on my best smile.

"You see, Grenald, I saw a bluebird with a broken wing and tried to help it." I lie, my voice dripping in faux sweetness. Smirks and chortles fill the air, as this statement was blatantly a bluff. It's not like I'm going to say the real reason. I expect Grenald to call me out on it, and I won't pay any heed if he does. There's not much he can do besides lecture me.

I look at him, waiting for him to open his mouth. To my immense surprise, he just shakes his head and continues. Maybe adults are more sentimental on the Reaping then I thought. "So, today we're going to cut down this section of trees," he says, gesturing to a row of trees with bright orange flags marking their trunks. "As always, you are going to pair off. You all know the routine." He puts two fingers to his lips and whistles loudly. "Disperse!" I search for my partner that I have been with since the first day. I don't like him; it's just that neither of us prefer to talk.

I spot him in the crowd and we silently go to pick up an axe from the pile. I make sure to choose the one with the sharpest blade. We head into the forest and stop at the nearest tree. "I'll cut this one, and we'll both chop it," he suggests.

I cock an eyebrow. "No_, I'll_ cut them. All of them." This is the first time the Boy has asked to chop a tree, and I'm not going to let him. Why would I let him ruin my fun?

"So maybe we can take turns," he says. "You know, alternate."

"I don't think so," I reply smoothly. I wind up and hurl my axe into a farther tree, where it sticks right in the middle. I smirk at him and go retrieve my axe. "Have you changed your mind?" I ask when I have returned to our tree.

"No," the boy says firmly. Suddenly, he is full of words and courage. This will be the last time we partner up, that's certain. "What can you do to me? You're really saying you're going to kill me?" He snorts. "Laughable," he mutters. I take a deep breath. The Boy obviously isn't budging.

"Fine," I say. "But I'm cutting this one. And next time don't expect this leniency. If you even dare…" I allow myself to trail off, leaving an aura of mystery and malice to my words. I turn towards the tree and swing my axe as hard as possible. It makes a deep engraving in the middle of the trunk. My body fills with pleasure as I acknowledge the fact that I am killing something living. I've done this so much yet it still causes adrenaline to course through my veins.

One more cut, then another. I imagine the tree crying for help, screaming in pain, bleeding out. I hack into the rough bark for the last time, and it topples over, decapitated and lifeless. It takes all I am to hold back a burst of evil laughter.

The Boy and I each go to the opposite ends of the tree and start chopping the wood into medium sized pieces. It may be already dead, but that doesn't mean that the torture is over. We silently do this task, depositing the lumber into a huge basket by our station. This one gargantuan tree takes almost an hour to complete alone, but I relish every moment.

We continue this process throughout the three hours of work. I have to go straight to the Reaping from here, and unfortunately my outfit got quite dirtied. Oh well, District 7 isn't exactly known as the best dressed district. The end of the job arrives, and I give my axe to Grenald.

The weather is still dark, and the clouds look near to bursting. The journey to the District square isn't a long one, but I reroute my direction in an attempt to avoid Twig, despite the fact that I said I would walk with him. I doubt it will work; he's so clingy that he'll stop at nothing to locate me. Sure enough, when I am about half way there, I vaguely hear someone calling my name. I swear under my breath; I would recognize that squeaky voice anywhere.

I stop and turn around with a smile on my face. Twig is running toward me, basically skipping. Right now, I feel like I could rip my hair out. "I'm so glad I found you!" he says when he catches up. "This is a different course than usual. I was looking for you everywhere!"

"I just decided to…explore a bit," I say through barred teeth.

"Okay," he replies. "How was work?" The rest of the walk proceeds in this fashion, with us exchanging conversation, and me wanting to scream. We reach the square, and the camera crew has just finished setting up. We go to sign in with the Capitol people, who prick our fingers to receive a blood sample. Twig winces, but I stay placid and calm. We head into our different sections, me in the 15-years old area and him with the 14-year olds. My ears suddenly scream in protest as microphone feedback fills the air.

I divert my attention to the stage as Mayor Bromstead, our sick joke of a mayor, wobbles onto the stage. I don't know how he got elected; everything about him just screams undignified. His stature is tiny and diminutive, and he is quite robust. It seems like his chestnut brown hair is oiled back in a failed attempt to be handsome, and his suit has a faint stain on it. He also bears a stuttering problem, which is not ideal during public speeches.

"H-hello, District S-seven," he says. Wow, his impediment is even worse than previous years! "T-today, as y-you all know, is th-the Reaping for the Hunger Games. We are h-here to draw the names of two young p-people to r-represent our district in th-this celebration of P-panem, who rose from the ashes of a p-place called North America." What is that shine on his forehead? Is that sweat? Great, now we've likely become the laughingstock of Panem. "Th-this f-foresaid country w-was advanced b-beyond belief, but they n-nevertheless w-were reduced to noting. G-great f-floods, earthquakes, t-tornadoes, wars, p-plagues, droughts, and famines brought th-their destruction, and the s-survivors were r-resourceful enough to build a n-new society." Chortles erupt from the crowd, and I can't help but let a laugh of my own escape from my mouth. Leave it to our mayor to make the Treaty of Treason ridiculously amusing.

"They s-split up into t-thirteen districts with one s-supreme ruler known as th-the C-capitol," he continues, eyes glued to the paper. The C-capitol sustained and p-protected them, but the Districts s-somehow f-forgot what g-good the Capitol did t-to them and tried to r-rebel. The-" Everyone gasps with horror and delight, including myself. He just dropped his papers! They begin fluttering all over the stage, blown about by the howling wind. Mayor Bromstead begins hyperventilating, and his face grows deathly pale. He'll probably get fired after this fiasco. As much as this is embarrassing, I kind of hope that he doesn't, since he makes something as dreary as the Reaping entertaining.

Surprisingly, he doesn't try to go after the papers, but instead stays rooted to the spot. "The d-districts were, um, obliterated, and District 13 was s-subdued." That's completely wrong! He's trying to recite the Treaty from memory? He can barely read it, let alone remember it! "Wait…um, no, that's not right. The d-districts were s-subdued, and D-district 13 was obliterated."

When is he going to realize that he is utterly failing? Suddenly, a random voice for the crowd calls out, "Just pick up the stupid papers and read them already!" It's like he's reading my thoughts, because frankly, the mayor's blunders were funny at first but now they are just getting irritating. Nobody wants to spend all day here listening to him deform the Treaty. His face turns the color of a tomato and he runs all about the stage comically, chasing after the offending papers. He returns to the front of the stage and rushes through the rest of it in a minute voice. I can't hear a word he's saying, but at least he's speaking fast.

When he finishes his speech, he practically runs off the stage as fast as his stout little legs can carry him. I find myself comparing him to a mouse. _Now all we need is a mouse trap, _I think and smile at my own cleverness. My smile immediately disappears though when I see a flurry of red bounce onto the stage. I swear, an escort can make anyone grumpy. Especially one like Paris. Today he is dressed in a sparkly red suit accompanied by scarlet lipstick and nails, not to mention his teeth dyed in the same shade embedded with rubies. His ginger hair is as annoyingly bouncy as ever, and his face is ghostly pale, no doubt due to a thick layer of makeup.

"Welcome to the Reaping for the 13th Annual Hunger Games! And may bad luck_ leaf _you!"" he trills in that Capitol accent, which is like nails scraping on a chalkboard. The fact that his enthusiasm is obviously feigned and the presence of his awful pun only contributes to that. "I had better get a Career district next year or I swear I will quit." He blatantly didn't mean for this statement to be heard, but the microphone picks up every word you say. Instead of being offended by this, I almost laugh. First of all, I don't get offended. Second, I got used to his longing of a more esteemed District since he's been in attendance for as long as I can remember. And thirdly, he's just so pathetic. With the level of performance he bears, it's highly unlikely he'll move Districts unless it is to District 12.

"So to follow tradition, how about we reap the ladies first, eh?" he says, trotting over to the Reaping ball. He pulls out a name and unfurls it with overdone flourish. I don't care who gets reaps; I'm not acquainted with any females and I wouldn't want to be. "And our female tribute is…An-Wei Lian! An-Wei, please come to the stage!" A remarkably ugly girl appears out of the crowd, with black hair pulled into braid. Her face is flat like a pug's, and has weirdly long arms. She wears this strange red dress with an intricate golden pattern on it that must be custom of her ethnicity. I don't believe she will have a chance. It surprises me that her features are so calm; someone who is certain to die like her would usually be bawling.

She climbs the steps and takes her place at the side of the stage. "Alright, do we have any volunteers?" asks Paris. Of course we don't; I can't fathom why they even bother asking anymore. It's a colossal waste of time. When no one steps forward, Paris continues. "An-Wei, you are officially our lucky young lady! Now, gentleman, the wait is over!" This is it, but unlike most other males in the square, my heart continues at a normal pace. Its fine if I'm reaped, and fine if I'm not. He sinks his hand into the Reaping ball and picks a slip.

"Fir Hertwig!" he announces. What…oh, me. I'm the tribute? I wasn't expecting that. I find myself a bit excited to go into the Games, and put on a cold, vicious face for the cameras. I just have to make sure that it goes the way I want it to, which is me being the predator and everyone else the prey. That shouldn't be too hard, what with my skills with axes and my strong mind. And even if I do lose, I might want to meet Birch in heaven. _No, Fir_! I scream at myself. _You will not lose, and you do NOT care about Birch anymore!_

I propel forward with confident strides and mount the stage. Looking out over the District, I feel powerful and important. I glance up at the sky. It will surely rain very soon, and I'm here under this awning while everyone else will be soaked. I feel a wave of disappointment at the realization that Paris is under it too, so I won't get the immense pleasure of seeing his makeup ruined.

"Any volunteers?" says Paris. Although just a few minutes ago I was on the line on the topic of being a tribute, now I know that it's my destiny and what I want. I'm very glad that I'm in a District where volunteers are slim to none. After a minute of silence, Paris's voice breaks the air. "Give it up for the tributes of District 7, and wish them the best of luck in this year's Games!" No one applauds, and, with perfect timing, a crack of thunder sounds. Rain begins to fall, drizzling at first but in a matter of seconds becoming a full-blown storm.

An-Wei reaches out her hand, and I grasp it tightly. I shake it up and down rapidly, squeezing harder than normal. My eyes give her an intimidating glare to top it off, trying to evoke a slight change in her face from that placid, almost robotic look she is wearing. I come up with nothing, as she doesn't move except to pull her hand away from my iron grip.

We are escorted into the Justice Building to say our good-byes after that. The only good-bye I'll have is Twig, and I am not looking forward to it. I just want to enjoy the moment and relish it in solidarity. I have to say, though, I wish the Reaping was a day later so I could have went through with my plans to abandon him. Suddenly, I am blessed with a spark of genius.

Before I enter my room, I stop to face the Peacekeeper who monitors the visitors. "Could you, by any chance, restrict a person named Twig from coming in?" I say. "When he asks why, just tell him that Fir never liked you and to get lost." The Peacekeeper nods and quickly jots something down on his clipboard. Now I'll get my peace and quiet _and_ let Twig know that I hate him. Always kill two birds with one stone, right? I step inside my room and am in complete awe.

The place is lavishly decorated, with unnamable fabrics covering the chairs and acting as curtains. The wooden tables are mahogany and polished to a shine, engraved with designs so intricate that looking at them dizzies me. I sink into a plush sofa and sigh happily. And this is only the good-bye room! I still have the luxuries of the actual Capitol to anticipate.

I sit here, daydreaming about the days to come, until I hear noises at the door. "What's your name?" The Peacekeeper's voice says.

"Twig," another voice responds. A smile creeps across my face. He is in for a special surprise.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you pass," Peacekeeper says. Twig gasps and I can only imagine his facial expression.

"Why not?" he asks, his tone rising. "I'm Fir's best friend, and he is about to go into a death match! I need to say goodbye!"

"No, I have a request from Fir," Peacekeeper says. "He told me to not let you in and that he never liked you and for you to get lost. So if you don't mind, you can leave now." A cry erupts from Twig and his sobbing begins. Running footsteps recede to nothing and I pump my fist in the air. Victory is mine; I got the last word. And if victory is so easy for me to reach right now, then what's stopping me from being victorious in the Games? In…everything?

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**Irisismyname A/N- **I'm already accustomed to many of the other authors here, so hello. I really love this story and the people that read it. I don't even know if I wrote this right because I'm familiar to past tense, but it's my first time writing present. I hope you like our tributes. :)

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**An-Wei Lian, District Seven Female**

_**Irisismyname**_

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_"I'm real sorry for your district's loss," she said. "But really, they were just all steps to my victory. That girl from your district, whatever the heck her name was, she was a real bitch to me. I made sure she died slowly, like she deserved. It was like that for all of them."_

_"Yeah, I had a real fun time with her," she smirked and flipped back her perfect brown hair. "Like I said, just bits and pieces. Totally meaningless. Me being the victor is great. They made a cake for me when I came back, with the words 'Congrats, Rogue,' on it in icing..."_

You are supposed to be dead. Rogue Swash is supposed to be dead. She was just another career, that tricked her way to the top. And she was supposed to die. She killed the tributes from our district. The girl tirbute was, or might have someday been, my friend.

That is why I hate Swash.

I am the girl at the end of the east side.

The west side is where the poor laborers live and work. It is a close community, that shares the gene pool and houses together. The adult population is sixty percent, and the juvenile population is forty on the west side. It is also very flammable. Matches and lamps are kept under lock and key in the market, and setting off fires for destructive causes has a death penalty wavering over it. It is consisted of the lumberjack's village, the local carpenter's shop, the market, and the lumber mill.

The east side is where all the important figures live, and the town. The adult population on the east side is ninety percent, which leaves the juvenile population to ten percent. The houses are made of brick, real brick, and furnished lavishly. It is where the mayor's cabin, victor's village, town square, and richer folks live. The farther east you live, the richer you're supposed to be. That's what the girls at school say.

But I don't go to school.

My grandmother insists that a high-born girl can't mix with poor worker children. _I'm not a child,_ I'd say, and she'd glare with her two fox eyes. Then she would say, _You know better, An-wei. Unless you're as stupid as your looks suggest_.

The conversation would usually end there. Then I'd jump out the window and run barefoot through the woods, and smear mud on my face, pretending I'm a rebel in the war, like grandmother described them in my bedtime stories. Or jump naked in the lake and splash water on unexpecting people. In this district, I'm allowed to do whatever I want, just because I'm a town girl. It fits being rich. Unless my grandmother had tea with the mayor or someone else, I could get away with anything I want. When I want to be, I am a child, and when my grandmother forces me to be, I am a woman.

I'm even allowed to have weapons in the mansion, as long as I don't actually kill someone important with them.

The only people that my grandmother allows me to meet are pretty boring, anyway. Except for Lynna Daniels, Park Daniel's five-year-old daughter. A victor's child, and the first. She is a bright, bubbly girl, unlike her father. Park Daniels is a depressed, oppresed mentor. His mind was shattered by the Hunger games, and my mother used to say that the only thing in the world that cannot be fixed is a man. His wife is a sweet and considerate woman, the ideal picture of a mother.

I wish I could say my own is that way.

My mother is supposed to be beautiful. I can't say a yes or no to that, because I haven't seen her in a year, and she might have changed over that period. My parents left me to my grandmother's care when I was seven, and they visit just twice a year, once on my birthday and once for new year. To be honest, I don't miss them. It's more of hate than love between us. Hatred that they'd vanished from most of my life.

They left me with a box of love chocolates, a cat, and seven-million dollars in a reserve. I think I really do hate them.

This is how my morning goes:

"An-wei," Lynna says. Her parents left her to my care, because her Daniels is going to the reaping. Her eyes are wide as dishes and full of innocence. "What are the Hunger games?"

I sit on my haunches so that we are face to face. It's best if I didn't tell her. How are you supposed to explain the games to a child? Even I didn't know until I was thirteen. "Have you heard of the Capitol?" I ask her.

"Yes!" Her little face brightens as she recognizes the word. Who wouldn't? "We learned at school that the Capitol was good to the districts, but the districts were bad, so they were punished."

"You're a very smart girl, aren't you, Lynna?" The Capitol feeds lies to children through school. They teach them that the districts betrayed the Capitol and that the civilization that lived on this foreground before us was a dangerous race, having access to an arsenal of destructive weapons. History is meant to be recorded, not changed to one's preference. "But you're not old enough to know the games yet. Someday you will, though."

It breaks my heart that children like Lynna, entering the world fresh and blind, do not know the imminent danger they are in. I never want to have children, if this is the price to pay for it, life. "Now, do you want some cookies to eat?"

She nods rapidly and I take her took the dining room to eat, but my mind is somewhere else. Why children? What did they do? Isn't it enough to make most of the poor live in poverty, but killing children too? Rebellious ideas are not new to me. I've thought about running away many times before, and becoming a lumberjack.

It doesn't sound too crazy, either.

I watch the little girl eat. She bites the edges off in a circular motion, eating it bit by bit, until her cookie is gone. Then she picks up the next one, and repeats. I hear my grandmother come into the kitchen and say, "An-wei, you are going to be late to the reaping. Go upstairs and change right now. I will look after the girl."

"Fine," I snap, then steal a cookie on the way up the grand staircase. What time is it that I have to leave already?

My cat, Bao, brushes against my leg. He desires my attention, but I have none to give him. "Go away," I say to him, and push the cat away. I don't need more cat fur on my clothing.

My grandmother's trunks are already open when I get there. She has two of them, carved from tough hickory and gilded in gold leaf. They are wedding gifts, from her parents, and she kept them through the rebellion and great disasters. A dress hangs out one. She must've meant for me to wear that one.

I lift it tenderly, and see that it is a cheongsam. They are tight-fitting dresses around the midriff, and not manufactured anymore. This one is spun from red silk, then embroidered in the image of magnolias with golden floss. Probably costs a fortune just to keep it. I clamber over it, trying to find the opening to get in. The top? The bottom? The bottom has a wider opening, so I enter through there.

So, it doesn't fit me very well. It is tight around the waist, shoulders, and butt, but think it is supposed to feel like that. Like I said, I don't have the patience to think, so I tie my black hair in a ponytail. I don't look bad.

I can see myself in the full-length mirror. I'm not beautiful. My face is round and flat. My arms looks weak, but are as strong as steel cords. I look and feel like a monster sewn from mismatched parts. Isn't that half the reason why my parents left me?

Because they see me as ugly, and I feel no shame over it.

I am moving back down the stairs, and pass Lynna and my grandmother. I see the rain heavy in the clouds, the stirring leaves, and know that I should bring an umbrella in case it rains. And not before my grandmother eyes my dress and asks, "What are you wearing?"

I have already left by then. My umbrella is unfolded and hanging from my wrist, ready to open when it begins pouring. I have a sense of optimisim for this years games. Because of that one name in the bowl. My names in the reaping bowl, bribed out, so I only have one name left. I'm as safe as you can get.

Or I thought so.

"H-hello, District S-seven," The mayor stutters in public. He is still in that stuffy brown suit. "T-today, as you all know, is th-the Reaping for the Hunger Games. We are h-here to draw the names of two young p-people to r-represent our District in th-this celebration of P-panem, who rose from the ashes of a p-place called North America." He has sweat all over his forehead. "Th-this f-foresaid country w-was advanced b-beyond belief, but they n-neverthless w-were reduced to nothing. G-great f-floods, earthquakes, t-tornadoes, w-wars, p-plagues, d-droughts, and famines brought th-their destruction, and the s-survivors were r-resourceful enough to build a n-new society. They s-split it up into t-thirteen Districts, with one s-supreme ruler known as th-the C-capitol. The C-capitol sustained and p-protected them, but the Districts s-somehow f-forgot what g-good the Capitol did t-to them, and tr-tried to r-rebel. The-" The papers in his hands, the last resort for him, scatter over the stage and audience, carried off by the wind. He tries to remember what to say, but the words do not come easily. "The D-districts were, um, obliterated, and District 13 was s-subdued. Wait, um...no, that's not right. The D-districts were s-subdued, and D-district 13 was obliterated."

I can see the faint stain of sweat under his armpits. I really do pity him; he must be truly afraid. "Just pick up the stupid papers and read them already!" A rude person yells from the sections. A uproar of laughs and hoots rises, humiliating the poor man. His face is turning red in embarrassment, and he runs after the loose papers in a mad goose chase. The audience laughs at him, but I do not find this funny. It is a twisted treatment of a person. When he finally seems to have gathered enough papers, he rushes through the rest of the words and finishes meekly.

"Welcome to the Reaping for the 13th Annual Hunger Games! And may bad luck LEAF you!" the escort, Paris says, rushing to avoid the shame. He mutters under his breath, "I had better get a Career district next year, or I swear I will quit." He makes no effort to really hide it, as it is just loud enough for everyone to hear. His sparkly red suit has leaves and mud stuck to it. A pathetic sight. We'll be the laughing stock of the districts for ages.

"So to follow tradition, how about we reap the ladies first, eh?" He trots over to the Reaping ball and pulls out a name. It's too fast. I don't even have enough time to take a-

"And our female tribute is...An-Wei Lian! An-Wei, please come to the stage!" I want to scream, _"I only have one name in that bowl! Why did you choose me?" _I'm choking. I can't breathe. The stiff collar is killing me. I can already see the headlines, "Girl dies of choking during reaping." It'll be a classic story, and everyone will come to the funeral. Even mom and dad will come home to see my ugly dead body one more time. I hope they burn it. I wouldn't want to stay ugly forever.

Paris asks, "Alright, do we have any volunteers?" Of course there aren't any. "An-Wei, you are officially our lucky young lady! Now, gentleman, the wait is over!" They are staring at me. I glare back, making many people look away in fear. I can _feel _myself burning in anger. I want to blow Paris up. I want to blow myself up. I want to blow the entire district and Capitol up. I want to blow everything on Panem up.

But Rogue Swash, first.

He picks a name and unfolds it, announcing,"Fir Hertwig! Congratulations, Fir!" A boy from the fifteen-year old section walks up, in a crinkly old blouse and icy grin. I know him. He is a commie boy, a community home resident, a lumberjack. But his smile...something is not right about him. He is unpredictable, therefore, dangerous. My first enemy. Great.

"Any volunteers?" he asks. No one comes forward and he says,"Give it up for your tributes of District 7, and wish them the best of luck in this year's games!" No one applauds. The weather decides to go wrong then, and crack of thunder breaks over the skies. Then, it rains. Heavily.

Fir faces me, and I see the true iciness in him. He shakes my hand, a little too hard, and I learn his strength. He is strongly built in the arms and legs, probably from labor as a lumberjack, but I can instantly see his weakness. He is like a wind-up toy, once he loses the time and strength to do something, he has to stop.

He is ice, but I am fire. And if he wants to survive me, he will have to learn to thaw.

Our walk to the justice building is silent, but not at all. Thunder claps above us, bringing heavy showers of rain to the earth. I have the umbrella to protect me, but the boy, he has nothing. His hair, clothing, and skin drenched, but he doesn't look upset. I don't want to share the umbrella with him or ask him if he'll like to, so we walk in silence, minds full of wonder. If one thing was different today, would I be in the same place I am now?

His feet go _plunk, plunk, plunk_, in the forming puddles. He is muddy, wet, and should be miserable, but he looks more satisfied than upset.

I'm too afraid to meet his eyes. They are dark green and have an unmistakable coldness, that should belong to a hardened criminal, not a boy barely sixteen. I want to ask so many things, but I know better and keep to myself.

How did I even get reaped? I had one name, and it was at the bottom. He picked from the top. How did that happen?

I know the answer. Someone added my names to the bowl. But it could've been anyone. I hope.

I choose to not have the shame of my grandmother seeing me, and board the train. Fir stands next to me, then leans close to the back of my neck, so I can feel his breath on me, and whispers, "You're going to die, you know that, En-wee?" What kind of idiot would call me "En-wee"? I am no more than mildly irritated, and that seems to peeve him more.

He gives a frigid menace, but I am expert at this game. My face is set straight, without the slightest show of fear. He is weak and shallow to prey on me. "Its An-wei," I say to his displeasure. I feel his anger starting, melting the ice inside him.

"Well, whatever, Han-wee," he says, still going at me. It won't make any difference. Living with my grandmother has toughened me. "Your name isn't going to matter for much longer since you'll be nothing but a corpse soon."

"We'll see." But the words are not directed to him. If I'm going to the Hunger games, I may meet her. The hunger games may actually work in my favor.

The words are to Rogue.


	9. District Eight Reapings

**A/N-** Alright guys here is the next reaping, I have technically stuck to schedule because the update date is scheduled for Friday and where I live, it just turned Friday like five minutes ago xD

Anyway this is my reaping (so nervous) but the other author hasn't got back to me yet for the past month, instead we have another fantastic author filling in, so I hope you love what she's done with her as much as I do :D

Please review guys, oh and all the authors when you read this please go check out the forum at the new topic, explaining the fact that you will review twice for this district :D

Anyway enjoy, I hope you like it :D

(Oh and I didn't include the goodbyes for certain reasons, won't bore you with them xD)

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**Harrison Sigell, District Eight Male**

_**jakey121**_

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A light spray of muddy water is enough to snap me back to reality. I push my body back into a standing position, maintaining balance using the heels of my feet, with my left hand I wipe my dripping wet fringe from my eyes and with the other, grab the basket by my feet. I notice the loaves of bread and the odd apple or two are covered with the mud that has arrived due to this atrocious weather.

Oh well ... there's more than enough food at home to help these kids ... if I can get home that is. Standing in front of me, the reason as to why I was in the muddy water to begin with is Burt Ackles, the poorest of the poor and the District bully. He seems to find us _rich _kids annoying and just does all he can to wreck our decent lives.

I am not one to get into fights, on the contrary I am too nice to get into these scuffles. My positive attitude to life, my happiness and upbeat personality just doesn't make me prone to using my fists as a way of getting my point across. But fights seem to find their way to me regardless, the thugs are normally in the form of the poorer kids of the District, those that find me annoying just because I try to bring a little positivity to life. I don't get what their problem is ... I don't do anything bad to them, in fact I do the complete opposite. Ever since I was allowed my independance I would help the kids in poverty by stealing food from my own cupboards and distributing it around to those who rarely get three meals a day. My parents eventually found out but they were more than happy for me to carry this on, every day I strive to help those who need the help ... yet there are still these stubborn fools who think my good deeds aren't welcome, I would believe that if it wasn't for the large crowd of starved kids advancing towards me with smiles on their faces.

"Go back to your house and play with your dolls or whatever it is you snobby prats do, just leave us alone!" Burt spits in my face and gives me a punch in the gut to emphasise his point. I can't deny it ... that hurt like a bitch but I keep myself composed, smile at him and pat his shoulder before ignoring his request and carrying on down the road towards the homes of the starving.

"Didn't you hear me, get the hell out of here we don't want you here!"

"Oh Burt, can't you just see sense, look you people need food, I am not trying to patronise you or anything. I wouldn't dream of it, but all I am doing is trying to help. Besides, people obviously do want me here." I signal to the dozen or so stick thin children and smile at him. He shakes his head, glares at me with slits for eyes and turns and stomps off in the mud.

Good, that's one problem out the way. But what do I do about the food, it's all ruined. If only it wasn't pouring with rain ... yep that's right, not only does the worst day of the year start in about two hours time, the weather has to be like this. Pouring rain is an understatement, if it wasn't for the light in the house to my left I wouldn't even be able to see these kids, the rain is too much for my liking and that's saying something, usually I love everything.

"Harrison, you're here again!" The youngest, Tilly wraps her thin arms around my waist and tucks her head into my stomach. She's only six and sometimes the condition in which someone this innocent has to live has made me on the verge of tears. It isn't fair but I can't complain, I am wealthy, I have the food and the house, the card God dealt me and my family happened to be one of the good ones.

"Sorry guys, Burt got in my way again, the food is kind of ruined." I point to the dozen or so muddy bread rolls and the fruit with light drops of rain trickling down the red skin and landing with a splash on the muddy ground.

"Harrison ... you may not be used to it. But we eat what we can, thank you, we don't care if it is muddy, we'll eat it. Good luck today, hope to see you again tomorrow." Yvonne, the leader of the group who is about my age nods at me, I take this as the signal for me to leave. I give them all a smile, turn around and walk away.

I don't agree that they should eat those pieces of food, they are bound to get ill but I have to admit at least they will be eating today, anything is better than starving, even a stomach bug that may last a week. I hear their footsteps as I walk away, one or two arguments about who gets what breaks out and I just shake my head and smile. They may be on the verge of starvation, some survive and some die but they still are kids, and they are a family all of them. Not by blood but by friendship, if they stick together and as long as I am here to help them then they will break through, they will survive.

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The walk back to my house is uneventful, apart from the slip here and there by other people which causes me to burst out laughing, I make it home in one piece. If it was anyone else I bet someone who laughs at another person's misfortune would receive a smack in the face, but people know me, people know that I help those who suffer and they are grateful for it. I just wish Burt was like them, he isn't the only hostile force I've had to put up with, there are a few others but he is by far the worse.

I rub my stomach from where he hit me and groan as my fingers gently brush across the bruise that must already be forming.

Great so that's another bad thing, today just isn't my lucky day. First off is the reaping, I'm not too worried about that, I haven't had to take out any tesserae, neither has Niall my brother so hopefully it won't be one of us. Second is the pouring rain, I look up at the clouds, just grey after grey after grey, not a patch of blue in sight, and finally I am now in pain with a massive bruise forming from the punch earlier.

If things go the way they have so far I am sure to be reaped ... no, no I can't think like that. I won't, I can't, the chances are so slim anyway it's stupid even taking into consideration that it may happen.

_But it might ..._

Shut up! I slap my left cheek gently and throw open my front door. I am greeted instantly to the smell of bacon frying in the pan. I lick my lips and feel saliva trickle down my bottom lip. What I wouldn't give to have some of that, but I promised I would get ready as quick as possible and go and meet up with my friends, so I push past temptation and hurry up the stairs and into my bedroom.

"Harrison, aren't you going out in a minute?" The light tapping on my door and the sound of my mother's voice draws me away from my bed and to the door. I open it gently and smile down at her, it's no denying how tall I am. Okay six foot is sort of the norm for someone my age, I have seen a few taller and I have seen one or two smaller but I am the tallest out of my family. My mother is a delicate little thing, somewhere just above five feet, her shoulder length blonde hair, her dazzling brown eyes and perfect skin makes her look much younger than she is.

"Yes mother, I just have to get changed first." I hand her the basket, she smiles at me, gently brushes her hand on my cheek before leaving back down the stairs and presumably into the kitchen to resume cooking breakfast for herself and Niall.

Father is at work, he always goes in early since he works for the mayor in the Justice Building, that's one of the reasons we have a good amount of money, the second being the fact that my mother makes very beautiful ballgowns with her trusted sewing machinery for top Capitol citizens. They pay vast amounts of money for her garments, she's one of the best, everyone knows it. They are two very hard workers, then there is me who helps with the District, I have accomplished a lot which I am proud of and pushed past the bullies that are too naive to see what I do helps those in need ... but then there is my twelve year old brother Niall. I love him, I really do but whereas I love the outdoors he prefers the solitude of his bedroom, he prefers to delve into the company of his books and his music. I am fine with the fact he is intelligent ... but his anti-social behaviour really does aggravate me. One day I will get him to hang with me outdoors, one day I swear it, he will enjoy the company of me, his older brother.

Anyway back to what's important, choosing clothes appropriate for a reaping. Since I usually spend the time before the reaping with my friends and then head straight to the Square, I guess getting ready is the best idea. Thing is I really don't understand what all the fuss is about looking good for such a miserable day ...

The Hunger Games ...

The thorn among the rose that is Panem. You're all probably wondering how I could possibly think that Panem could be compared to something as delicate and beautiful as the roses that grow and grace our world. Alright I admit that the justice system and the way things are run could be improved, but Panem is where we live and shouldn't we all treat the land and those in charge with respect? If it weren't for them then we would all be dead.

_If it wasn't for them then 23 teenagers wouldn't be slaughtered every year in the name of entertainment._

Alright that is a fair point, The Hunger Games isn't the best but apart from that I don't really have a grudge against the Capitol and the President. The President helps maintain the way things go, the Capitol provides a stability for our country, without a city to look up to then everyone would be left to the slums of a district, we have to let some people live happy lives or happiness will just fade to exist. What is life without happiness?

If The Hunger Games are essential for Panem to continue like the way it does and to stop any outbreak of war then by all means they should continue. It is a horrible thought ... I do wish there was another way, but there isn't and that's life ... things can't always go to plan so I do my best to at least mirror my positive thoughts with a smile on my face and a basket of bread in my hand for the hungry. It's the only thing to keep me going, if I was all doom and gloom then I might as well be dead, positivity is my stability ... I need it like a fish needs water.

Oh well ... not everyone can feel the same way I feel. Better get back to the procedure of fishing out some nice clothes from my wardrobe. Anything to keep my thoughts trailing back to those that make me question the way I live my life.

"Harrison, what's taking you so long? Penny just rang asking if you're leaving!" Mum really doesn't look the type who can shout a house down, but I swear the walls shake when she screams. Her voice makes me groan and grab the nearest top I can find, anything to get out of the house before she screams again. I take off my muddy top, scraping the few flecks of dried dirt and dropping them in the bin in the corner. The blue and white checkered shirt fits comfortably against my skin so I head over to my trouser drawer and take out the pair of jeans lying folded on the top. I know it's odd for people to go quite casual, normally it's supposed to be quite smart dresswear but if I feel comfortable then to be honest I couldn't care if I didn't look the part. Besides Harry will probably be wearing the same, Jenny - well she'll be wearing something very over the top and Penelope - not Penny, only my mum calls her that - will be wearing something fairly laid back and reserved.

The dark, denim jeans are tight around my waist but they don't hurt too much so I finish by grabbing the cleanest pair of white trainers I can find and I quickly scan myself in my mirror. I quickly ruffle my light brown hair, making sure the fringe is swept to the left like it always is. One thing I dislike about how I look is the fact I don't tan, I used to just stay outdoors all the time praying that my skin would darken but it stayed the same, I've given up to be honest, besides I have had one or two girls say I'm handsome so I might as well be content with the way I look.

I pat down a slight crease in the left sleeve of my shirt, smile in the mirror and head out my room and down the stairs.

"Finally, you look very nice Harrison. I shall see you after the reaping." My mum says from out of nowhere. This is another thing I dislike about her, she just seems to pop up without any noise signifying her arrival. It scares me sometimes if I'm honest.

"Thanks mum, see you later, tell Niall I said good luck." She nods and kisses my forehead. There's nothing like a big, sloppy kiss from your mother is there ... well that's what mothers seems to think, I could do without if I'm honest.

I leave quickly out the door, wave back at her and hurry on through the rain and down my street. My neighbourhood can be fairly quiet, and today is no exception. District Eight mainly consists of middle class people, that's odd because I would have thought that most would be poor but in fact looking around the District on one of my many walks it seems that quite a fair few are content with their lives. They aren't perfect but they aren't wasting away in their own filth. I'm not quite sure whether my family comes under the middle class section or the upper class, we are very rich compared to so many other people, but compared a few other families we are quite poor so it's hard to place us. Judging by the looks we sometimes get by those that hate people better off then themselves we probably are upper class. That's quite a nice place to be, I just wish everyone else could be as rich as us, it isn't fair that some are dying from lack of food ... but what can one District Eight kid do, my daily routine of giving out food can only help a few people, the others ... well I don't even want to get into that.

Why am I so negative today? ... god I don't like this side to me. I force my lips up into a smile and even start to skip ... actually I probably shouldn't so I stop and carry on walking through the rain. I do like the feeling of the drops tapping against my face but not this hard, I am even surprised the other three were up for meeting, the three of them really don't like the rain and they all have to put up with it whilst we wait at the Square as the reaping goes on.

"Finally! God you took forever, Penelope, Jenny he's here!" The sound of Harry's voice nearly makes me jump and fall over, I really can't see a thing and it's only when I squint my eyes that I can make out Harry in the distance, sitting on the wall everyone seems to hang on. How he saw me I have no idea.

"Surprised you are here, I mean look at the rain." I shout back to him. I hear him laugh and head on over towards me. Harry is pretty much the same as me, always trying to remain happy but there are times unlike me when he can get so serious it scares me. I love him - not in that way - he's like a brother and I pray he never gets reaped, if he did I would probably volunteer, probably ... I don't really know if I have the courage to do that sort of thing.

"Damn Harrison, you could have dressed a bit smarter, Harry and Penelope went all casual as well." There's no denying who's speaking now. Her thin yet tall frame is easily recognisable even in this harsh downpour. Jenny one of my girl best friends. She is the complete opposite of Penelope, in fact I don't even know how those two get along. Jenny obsesses over clothes, boys, makeup, boys and boys. Yeah so boys are her main love in life ... sometimes I wish she would just shut up but to be honest Jenny is Jenny and I wouldn't change her for anything.

"Look at my dress, it was amazing, finest material, just pure perfection and now it's ruined." She stomps her foot sending tiny little droplets of mud in every direction. Did I mention she throws tantrums sometimes like a little baby? This is Jenny ... you can't change her no matter what you do.

"Where's Penelope?"

"I thought she was next to me." Jenny says, looking over her shoulder to where she ran from. Even though it is morning it looks like night time, the dark clouds have cast a depressing darkness across the District, it's day yet feels like night and it's uncomfortable. I wonder if any other Districts have rain today? It wouldn't surprise me.

"We can't start heading for the reaping without her." Harry starts to walk back to the wall, using his arms and his upper body strength he hauls himself easily up onto the top and jumps over, disappearing from view.

"I am not climbing that, we'll go round." Before I even get a say in what's happening Jenny intertwines her fingers with my own and drags me forward. Like Harry she is much stronger than she looks, much stronger than me I can tell you that much ... like I said I don't use brute force, my brains and my smile usually get me out of situations where most people would use their fists, unfortunately sometimes fists find their way to my face and it isn't the best of feelings.

"I can't see her anywhere!"

"Well where the hell has Harry gone, the idiot, aren't you two supposed to be best friends?"

"We're all best friends Jenny ..." I mentally facepalm before picking up speed as Jenny releases my hand, lifts the part of the dress below her knees so it doesn't get muddy, and runs off. So Penelope disappears and to resolve the matter we all split up ... my friends aren't the smartest of people. I start walking, not running, and come to a halt in front of a small red fence supposedly guarding the little park for kids. A few teenagers are sitting on the swings, they look up and growl at me. I don't recognise them at all but I don't bother waiting around for them to tell me so I run back, look over my shoulder and-

"Ouch that bloody hurt!"

Finally ...

"Penelope where the heck were you?"

"I heard Burt's voice, thought I'd go see where he was so I could warn you, he doesn't hate us but he hates you. Went the wrong damn way though. Anyway where are Jenny and Harry?"

"Oh they went looking for you ... I knew we shouldn't have split up, but this is Harry and Jenny, they never listen."

Penelope doesn't reply, instead she rolls her eyes and stomps off back the way she came. Penelope is one of those girls who is confident with her friends yet fades away in a crowd. She's intelligent, no one is smarter than this girl yet she prefers to think of herself as the quick one ... alright she is stealthy and when she and Harry decide to play very risky pranks on Peacekeepers she is the first one out of there and usually the one to do the joke since she can do it undetected.

She's still the intelligent one no matter what she says, I'm the positive one, Harry is the joker of the group, Jenny the girly girl and Penelope the smart one. She can't do anything to change that, no amount of pranks will change her identity in the group.

One thing that does annoy me when it comes to Penelope is the fact that whenever someone says me and her should go out she doesn't do anything to shut them up. We're like brother and sister, the idea of that sort of relationship just makes me feel sick but when it comes up she just carries on like nothing ever happened. Don't get me wrong, Penelope is definitely attractive, more so than Jenny I would say. The way her auburn hair cascades down her back in beautiful curls, her blue eyes look so damn perfect against her pale skin ... but I don't love her in that way ... never will, so I don't get why people think I am up for that sort of thing with her.

"Oh crap."

Penelope's voice pulls me back from my thoughts and into reality again. We're now at the top end of the main street of the District, the Square is at the end of the road.

"What?"

"The reaping started a minute ago, hopefully they're already there, we can't look any longer!"

"Alright, hopefully we won't get in trouble for this."

She grabs my hand without warning and I can't help but feel my cheeks warm up ... I don't like her though ... just thought I'd emphasise the point. We run as fast as we can with the rain pouring down and drenching our clothes even further. Once or twice we slip slightly but we manage to hold ourselves up and before you know it we're standing in front of a little silver table, ready to enter the Square. I can see the reaping bowls being brought out onto the stage, at least the mayor hasn't started his speech yet, speaking of the mayor he isn't on the stage anyway, no one is.

"I thought you said we were late."

"I thought we were, guess my watch is wrong." She gazes down at her wrist but the cough coming from behind the table draws our eyes to the Peacekeeper sitting at the chair. Her hair is done up in a very tight, black bun, her lips are pursed together so tight I can't actually see them and her grey eyes shows us even more of how annoyed she is.

"Everyone else is already in, you are late as a matter of fact boy. Luckily for you no one is out yet." She grabs my hand and stabs my finger with the little needle ... dammit ... couldn't she have given me a warning, for such a small needle that really hurt. She scans the blood, nods her head before ordering me to go to my section in the Square.

Waiting for Penelope is pointless so I turn to her, give her a gentle wave before hurrying forward and into the mass of teenagers awaiting their fate ... to die or to live ... I can't really find anything positive to think about now that I'm here. You know when I was little and I watched the reapings from behind the rope with my mum, my sweaty little hand clutched into hers I used to wonder why no one ran away, the boy or girl chosen could easily have just sprinted away from the stage and hidden for the rest of their lives, anything's better than dying in some Arena. Now, looking at all the Peacekeepers and their guns I can see why, running just leads to death, and it can also result in people you care for suffering the brute force of the men in white. Accepting your fate and giving it your all is the best you can do.

It's sad, and sadness isn't something I find comfortable.

I slot myself quickly between two boys who I vaguely recognise, both look rather solemn in their smart reaping outfits. Their fringes are dripping with the rain, rain that just won't go away. I wish I could be happy now, normally I am but it's so damn hard today to find something to smile about. If my name isn't called out, as long as no one I care about has their name plucked out from the bowl than a smile will find its way to my lips but for now I remain like everyone else ... awaiting the reaping, awaiting my fate, awaiting the fact that my death may be upon me sooner than I would have liked.

"Hello everyone, another year another reaping and I am sure that this year will be great. We have our escort Nile Roche and our wonderful mentor Tabitha Phillips with us today"

Here we go ...

The doors of the Justice Building are wide open, the mayor, the escort and our only Victor take to the stage. Our mayor takes his place between the two reaping bowls whilst Tabitha and Nile take a seat. All of three of them look appalled by the weather, even Nile our I'm-so-hardcore escort.

Before the mayor can even speak again a loud sigh is released from across the square.

Let me tell you a thing or two about Mayor Atticus West ... he's boring, the dullest man to walk this earth. It doesn't really sit well with anyone, his voice just seems to drone on and on even when he isn't speaking, his tone, just the way he speaks doesn't leave your ears and it's just plain agony. I guess people don't like him because he loves the Capitol but with this man you can't really tell whether he loves or hates something because his facial expressions are all the same ... and now we have to listen to the Treaty of Treason ... marvolous!

"Now before we begin we must stick with tradition and I must read the Treaty of Treason. You all know how it goes I'm sure."

Another collective groan, this man really doesn't bring about any laughs. I wish someone would just break the ice with a joke, all this negativity is killing me and I can't do anything about it.

As always with the treaty I zone out, my eyes find their way to Tabitha Phillips, our one and only Victor. I think being a mentor must really hurt, seeing your tributes die in the Arena knowing you can't do anything to change it.

That's probably a normal feeling for the other mentors, Tabitha probably just shakes her head and leaves without a word, ready for the next two failures. I never liked her, before she was reaped she used to be really shy until you got in her way and she went all crazy on you. No one can question her intelligence though, that's basically how she won ... brought out the deepest and darkest thoughts out from the other tributes and twisted them around until her enemies went insane. She's amazing ... everyone just hates her.

"Well now that that is over and done with I shall move swiftly on. Good luck everyone, Nile if you will."

Wow - that went quicker than I thought. I guess focusing on someone I can think alot about does help, Tabitha I thank you.

Mayor West switches positions with Nile our escort. He's very ... very different to say the least. Yes different is a good word. I guess everyone in the Capitol is different. I don't get why they think they are all high and mighty, don't the Districts support them with everything they need.

"Hello District Eight! How are you doing today?" His words come out as a scream, obviously trying to pump the crowd like he always has done for the past three years.

What can I say about Nile Roche ... well he's tall, that's obvious. He has spiked jet black hair, golden skin and a skull tattoo on his left cheek. I told you he was different. What makes him even more odd is his obsession with people being 'hardcore.' Basically if people threaten how hardcore he is he'll flip out ... but generally he does seem like a nice guy. But like with Mayor West and Tabitha, no one likes him.

"Alright, first, we have the ladies."

Silence.

I can feel the fear emanating from the girls on the other side of the Square. I catch Jenny's dress, stuck tight to her skin due to how wet it is. Penelope is standing next to her, there's no denying how terrified she is. I wish I could just go over and hug the two of them and promise everything will be okay. Because it will ... it just has to be.

"Maia Rune!"

The name is announced, and relief spreads through me. I shouldn't be happy, I should be upset because an innocent girl has been called to her death and her friends and family can do nothing about it. But Penelope and Jenny, two of my best friends are safe for another year, only one more to go and we can get on with our lives ... now the smile has found it's way to my face.

"Dude what you smiling for, that's horrible." The kid next to me eyes me up and down before scowling and turning back to the stage. His insult doesn't do anything to wipe the happiness from me, nearly there, so close to being free and safe. What's not to smile about.

The Peacekeepers are guiding the chosen girl to the stage, she's very beautiful and innocent looking. It's a shame she'll die, she can't be more than fifteen years old by the look of her. She's wearing what would normally be quite a pretty dress but like Jenny's it's been ruined by the mud and rain, speaking of the rain it's still coming down. Nile looks pretty pissed to be honest.

"So hardcore! Now for the dudes!"

Still smiling yet a sliver of fear finds its way into me. Now I will know if myself, Harry and Niall are safe for this year. We have to be don't we? I mean what have we done to deserve something like The Hunger Games, the only bad thing about Panem. We'll be safe, we will be.

"Harrison Sigell!"

On the other hand I guess not deserving it doesn't mean it can't happen. Look at Maia, and now look at me.

I can't move, I literally can't even though my brain is telling my legs to get the hell up there.

_Left, right, left, right, it isn't hard, JUST DO IT!_

I stay still, it's not like I want to go to the Games. Only some raving lunatic or bloodthirsty career would jump at the chance but I know that what's done is done, I can't change my fate. It's been sealed by a slip of paper caught by the hand of Nile the 'hardcore' escort, what a way to go!

The people around me are moving to create a path to the stage, all eyes are full of sympathy but not one person is willing to volunteer. At least no one is pushing me forward, I will move when I am ready, if I am ever ready. The Peacekeepers don't seem to agree with me, I see the ones that escorted Maia head for me, something happens to my legs and just when I'm about to fall over I realise that they have finally agreed to start walking. I guess the Peacekeepers are scary enough, what will I be like in the Arena then?

As I pass the rows of people I keep the frown on my face, it's not like I could smile now. Even if I wanted to, to curl my lips is impossible.

I don't try to find Penelope, Harry, Jenny or Niall in the crowd. If I did I'd end up crying and that doesn't bode well with the sponsors. Instead I push the temptation to run to my loved ones deep down and walk faster up the steps of the stage and across to the other side of Niall. I smile at Maia, I would have presumed that she wouldn't reciprocate my kindness but she does and it makes me feel slightly happier. At least my District partner doesn't hate me. Maybe I have an ally in this, that would really help once the Games truly begin.

"Alright, here are our _super_ hardcore tributes! Shake hands please." I can tell that Nile is not impressed with how 'lame' we must look but I don't focus on him, instead I lean forward and clasp Maia's hand. Her light blue eyes lock onto mine and for a second I get the urge to grab her and run away from all this. She doesn't deserve this, she's so innocent, for the Capitol to throw this at her, it's just so wrong.

"I give you the District Eight tributes for the Thirteenth Hunger Games!"

I don't act on this urge, I don't even get a chance to let go of her hand myself before Nile pulls us apart, bids goodbye to everyone and two Peacekeepers lead the way into the Justice Building.

Why our names had to be picked I don't know. An innocent girl and one of the only guys that actually agrees to how Panem is run.

Death really is an evil with no loyalties, doesn't matter who you are, be it a murderer or someone like me. It will claim you, and in my case, earlier than intended.

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**Bitter Sweeet A/N- **Hey guys, its Lexis. Unfortunately Bluebird (Maia's author) hasn't been online in months and it has been annoying me not having a reaping for one of our beloved tributes so I volunteered to do the job. I've fallen in love with Maia and I hope you guys do too. Bluebird, if you ever read this, I am sorry if she isn't up to your expectations or seems out of character but this is how I interpreted her. Sorry this may not be that good guys, I am just too used to writing my own tribute.

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**Maia Rune, District Eight Female**

**_Written by Bitter Sweeet Lullaby, submitted by Bluebird1125_  
**

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"Lynna, I am a little bit scared but I will be okay won't I? The odds are in my favour after all. I know they are!"

Just like any other girl I share my deepest fears and concerns with my best friend and sister, Lynna is both to me. Today is the day that most teenagers, and ones like me, dread. It is the day of the reaping ceremony for the Hunger Games. I don't let it bother me often , I'm not the type of girl to dwell on matters which bring me down but it is hard to ignore when you are faced with it in just a few scarce hours.

"Lynna, I'll be safe, I feel it!" Lynna responds in her usual comforting and familiar way.

She purrs softly and licks my hand softly with her little pink tongue and I stroke her snowy white head paying special attention to her ears, she loves that.

Yes, my best friend is my cat and I love her so much. I tell her everything from hello in the mornings to my deepest darkest and inner most secrets. She is my little fluffy and meowing diary. Ask people from District Eight about Maia Rune and you will get the same answer, "Maia is a lovely girl but she is so strange! She is distracted and off in her own world and honestly a bit of a dimwit."

I feel my small lips twitch upward in to a small smile as Lynna moves from her spot on my bed and crawls up on to my lap. I don't think anyone has ever loved a cat as much as I do, my small heart my just burst at the thought of how much she means to me.

I do have a few friends, at school and such but none like Lynna. Lynna does not think I am strange or stupid like the others do. I hate school. I wish that I could have Lynna with me in school. A few years back I did put her in my old satchel and brought her with me and it was the most fun I've ever had in school. That is until after lunch time Lynna got a bit hungry , I knew because when she is hungry she purrs extra loud , and she kept poking her head out of the bag and then she went on a crazy rampage running all over the classroom and then she used my teachers desk for the toilet. I could not stop giggling, even when I got in trouble and was told to never ever bring her back to school with me. It is one of my most favourite memories ever.

I just can't seem to concentrate in school and it leaves my teachers with the impression that I am a bit slow for my age and that my development is a bit behind. My parents know the truth though, I just can't concentrate and my mind drifts off to think about things that interest me. School things do not interest me coincidentally. I think that the world has much more to offer and there is much more lessons to learn outside of what school can teach you. I think that you need to live, really live and open up your eyes and then you will be knowledgeable and then you will be living your life. What are numbers and equations and the history of Panem to a girl like me? Pointless and boring facts.

I like to stare out of the open window beside my school desk. I sit alone at the very back and that suits me perfectly because my teacher can't see what I'm up to back there and no one can tell me to pay attention or distract me from my thoughts. I do like my classmates, most of them. I think people are more fascinating than school work in any case. They are not just black and white and rigid like the facts they drum in to our heads. People have many sides to them and they are bursting full of all different colours and I love to get to know them and really get in to the deep depths of their beings. My mother tells me that I have a unique and beautiful gift, the gift of seeing the good in others. I love being able to see the good in people and it is most special when that person cannot see that good themselves.

I don't think people are able to be put in to categories like good and bad, I think we all have light and dark within but the choices we make and the experiences we have had can direct us further down one path or the other.

I yawn and stretch now and lean back further on my small and clean bed with light blue bed sheets, my favourite colour. Lynna moves off of my lap and curls up beside me on her favourite yellow pillow and soon she is asleep again. I wish I could be asleep. Today is my one day off from school or working and I have to spend it going to the reaping early this morning. I do not mind too much because after it I can do whatever I want! I might explore with Lynna or take a walk around the market later on. I love to do that, even if I am not close to many people in particular I do enjoy just skipping around the district and smiling and greeting those who walk by. I am known as the nice girl around here who is sweet to everyone and I just love it. As I have said, I love to meet new people and I love making them smile.

I close my eyes and allow a little day dream. I may not be able to sleep but why not allow myself to drift off for a while. As I close my eyes all of the tension of the morning and all of my worry seems to wash away. Laying upon my light blue bedspread with my eyes closed and my arms outstretched I can pretend I am drifting out deep in a calm blue sea and who knows where I could wash out?

I begin to imagine myself finding this hidden little island in the middle of my imaginary ocean and it is inhabited by a band of brightly coloured sprites and fairies. I always think like this. My mind is always so full of random thoughts, no wonder I don't concentrate on trivial everyday matters.

There is a short and soft rap on my door and it brings me back in to the present.

"Maia darling, time to get dressed." My mother announces in her soft and dreamy voice which people say is so alike mine. She stands at the foot of my bed holding a pale yellow dress with buttons down the front, a ribbon at the waist and short sleeves. It is lovely but I'd prefer my favourite pale blue and white plaid dress but mom says I should wear something new and special to the reaping and I always wear my blue dress, almost every day.

"Okay mom! I'll put it on now" I tell her as I jump up and fly in to her arms and she smiles down at me and plants a soft kiss on to my pale cheek.

"Alright darling, I'll meet you down stairs and then we can go, don't be nervous sweetheart, your dad and I are here for you." I just nod and remain smiling. I'm sure I'll be okay! The Hunger Games are not a nice thing but I don't allow myself to think on then often. The Capitol must think that they are really doing something good and they are protecting their country, why else would they do this to us! There must be some good reason! I know that people can't be all bad! They would not just do this to hurt those in the Districts, would they?

Mom goes downstairs and I quickly slip in to the yellow dress and some white ankle socks and shiny black shoes and I peer in to my cracked full length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door.

A frail girl with blonde hair so light it looks white smiles serenely back at me. She looks like she is a million miles away and does not have a care in the world. She also looks much younger than her fourteen years.

She looks like a sweet kid and her smile widens with my own. I wish I could talk to this girl in my bedroom mirror, I know she is merely a reflection of myself but how cool would it be to talk to your reflection and have them talk back? They'd look like you but be a whole new person! And then Lynna wouldn't be my only real friend.

As I descend the rickety stairs of my life long home and make my way to meet my parents in the kitchen I can hear a storm brewing outside. My favourite kind of weather! Well I do love the sunshine and how it makes everything look happy and how it warms my shoulders and makes my hair shimmer, but I love rain storms even more! That kind of weather has got the most personality!

I walk in to the kitchen and find both of my parents sitting together at the small, scrubbed wooden table, sipping coffee and dad is reading the local newspaper. I feel at the familiar family scene walk over to meet them. My dad greets me as always "good morning goldilocks" and kissed my forehead and mom says I look beautiful in my dress.

Much too soon it is time to go to the reapings and I walk in between my parents, hand in hand with both of them, muddy water splashing my ankles the whole way there. Before we left I begged to bring Lynna but mom just laughed and said no because she would get wet and grumpy and dad promised me we could buy her a present in town to bring home to her and that made me so happy.

A little rain won't bring me down right now, though mom says we should have brought an umbrella because my dress is now ruined but I don't care. I just skip along in-between my loving parents and feel like the happiest little girl in all of eight.

We are approaching the square now and I can see the peacekeepers everywhere and the lines of soaked children packed in to the square shoulder to shoulder, dripping on each other. It is a rather funny sight to see them all like that; they look like the sky has cried on them for hours and hours!

"You must go and sign in now Maia and go to your section." Dad tells me while squeezing my hand in support and I nod. I don't feel like leaving my parents but I will be back to them soon.

I remember something before I go on my way. "Dad can we try and finish that painting on my bed room wall tonight!" I've been working on it for weeks. It is a huge mural taking up the entirety of one of my walls depicting a scene of a busy market day in District 8. Mom says it is a very creative project and dad said it would take a lot of work to finish. I don't care though! I am a hard worker just like my parents. They don't have much but they get by through it with their determination and kindness and I am proud to be just like them! I may find it hard to concentrate but when I start something I will finish it, eventually.

I walk forward toward the entrance now looking back and waving to my parents as I go and end up bumping in to the table where the Capitol attendant pricks our fingers. "Sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" I tell the bored looking lady and she just rolls her eyes at me and grabs my hand and pricks my middle finger and then takes it and makes me press the blood on to a piece of paper and she then scans it and nods at me. I guess this is the Capitol's way of making sure we all attend the reaping. It's pretty cool actually even if my finger is sore now.

I stand alone in the middle of the fourteen year olds and I am facing the stage but I'm not really looking at it or taking in what is going on. The mayor is reading out the treaty of treason of course telling of the dark days and the rebellion and why the Hunger Games were decreed. I just stare ahead of me at the head of a tall girl with black long hair. The strands are not curled up and soaking wet so that her hair resembles spiders legs! I begin to imagine a supernatural girl who is half spider but then my attention is finally captured as our Capitol escort, Nile Roche, takes to the stage.

"Hello District Eight! How are you doing today?" he cries out and a small girl right beside me jumps. She must have been day dreaming too.

Nile is so weird! He has this little skull on his face and he always call things 'hardcore'. The Capitol really is a strange place.

I watch Nile as he jumps about on stage and I can't stop giggling. He is like a hyperactive little child except he is really tall and crazy looking.

"Alright, first, we have the ladies." Nile announces and then there is nothing. No sound except for the constant drip, drip of the falling rain. Fear has clearly taken over the girls of District 8. I won't say I am not scared! I feel weak with fear and my knees knock together. It will be okay, I promised Lynna! I'll be fine.

"Maia Rune!" But she won't! Poor Maia Rune won't.

Oh...

The girls around me part to form a pathway for me. Some of them sigh opening in relief and others look at me with pained expressions. I can do this; I can walk to that stage. I won't let the fear take over too much. I cling to the lightness inside of me; I will remain determined and positive. How is this happening? Why me!?

Maybe all of this is wrong after all. Why does the Capitol need a fourteen year old and happy girl to die for the good of Panem?

I make it to the stage and I just can't stop shaking. This doesn't feel real but I know it is not a dream. I only have nice dreams.

Oh well, at least I will make new friends! This can be an adventure! A new experience! I'll get to meet lots and lots of new people and might meet a new friend! Who knows?

Maybe I can come home too. My parents and Lynna will be waiting, I know they will! I'm going to stay strong for them and be as determined as I always am. I won't kill and I know that but I could hide away and live! I could live and I could win! And then I could buy nice things for my family and another cat to play with Lynna!

I turn to face the crowd and stare straight ahead. I don't want to look at my parents faces, I know they will be crushed by despair but I will do it for them! I will see district Eight again, I will!

Won't I?

Maybe not.

They are 24 and only one comes out. And I bet I, Maia Rune, of District Eight, am not the only one with dreams and hope.

I am a tribute now.

I have no voice.

I have no hope.

I have nothing.


	10. District Nine Reapings

**A/N- **Here we are again everyone. I haven't really got much to say this time, just I hope you like this reaping, I hope you are liking the entire thing so far. I love each and every one of the authors, each have their own unique writing styles and they're all brilliant.

So I bring you District Nine, leave your reviews guys, means a lot to me and the authors of each chapter!

Oh I just want to apologise to every author, I am supposed to be going through each chapter and making sure there are no errors, but I'm not perfect at this role and I try my best but I don't catch them all. Sorry about this but I do my best :P

Anyway ENJOY! XD

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**Ginga-in-Ravenclaw A/N- **Okay, I hope this is okay, as it is my first time writing something Hunger Games related. I'm trying to make this as readable as possible.

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**Derak Penfold, District Nine Male**

_**Ginga-in-Ravenclaw**_

* * *

Forcing myself out of bed, I wander to the small wooden box that serves as my closet. Next to me I hear my little brother stir.

"Get up, Darrel," I say. "The Reaping is today." He grumbles at me but pushes himself out of bed.

"Why do I have to get up for the Reaping? I'm not even in the pool of potential tributes!" He protests. I scowl.

"Speak for yourself. Get dressed," I say, changing into my clothes for the day. Grumpily, he follows suit. Heading out to breakfast, I close the door behind me to let Darrel finish getting dressed. In the kitchen, I grab a bit of bread and a cup of water. Toasting and putting a bit of butter on the bread, I quickly down my meager breakfast. Looking over at my cousin, Lyn, who has been living with us since her parents and siblings died in a fire a few years ago, I force a small smile.

"Ready for your first Reaping?" I ask. Of course, she isn't, but I ask anyway. Maybe I can offer a little comfort.

"Not really." She says with a weak smile. Behind her smile, I can tell she wants to cry. This will be hard for her, because the first Reaping, in my experience, is always the worst. Leaning forward, I wrap her in a hug.

"Don't worry, Lyn, you won't be picked. We'll both go home today after the reaping, and everything will be just like it was before." I say. I feel her tremble as it becomes harder for her to hold back her tears.

"But what if I am? I don't want to fight people, Derak!" She all but sobs. "I don't want to hurt anyone!" Sniffling, she buries her head in my shoulder. "I wish Uncle could at least be here to walk with us." By Uncle, she means my father, because he is already in the fields working.

"He'll be there during it though, so don't worry." I say. The workers are allowed away from the field during the reaping, and, if a family member is picked, for goodbyes. Calmed, her breathing calms and her tears stop coming. She pulls away from me and finishes her breakfast. Looking up, I realized that, some time during Lyn & I's conversation, Darrel came in. He is just finishing his breakfast as I straighten up. Soon, both of them finish and we walk down to the town square, navigating our way through the crowds.

When we get there, I send Darrel off to where the kids not in the Reaping gather and take Lyn's hand to go over to the lines to sign in. I hold her hand until we have to split so she can go to the girls' line, and I to the boys'. Up at the front, I let them prick my finger and check me in, and go to the 15-year-old boys' section. I murmur a few words to each of them and watch Lyn go to the 12-year-old girls' section. She looks more scared than ever now. After about 15 minutes of waiting, the workers come up from the fields and greet their children not in the reaping, if they have any. My dad is almost impossible to find in the crowd, and I don't try to. I just have to make do with knowing that he's there with Darrel.

Not long after the workers appear, Mayor Pealton and the Capitol escort, Robinetro Flaxine, come on stage. I almost laugh out loud at the escort's appearance. He has shoulder length, firetruck red hair, red skin dotted with what seems to be rubies, and his eyes look like he has a really bad case of pink eye in both eyes, and even his irises are pink. He looks hilarious! Many other people agree, but most of them fail to hide their laughter. If possible, his face goes even redder in anger from us laughing at him. Not long after this, the mayor stands up to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 9, welcome to the Reaping for the thirteenth Hunger Games!" He starts, trying to sound enthusiastic. He fails at it, and everyone notices it. "We are here to draw the name of one young man and one young woman between the ages of 12 and 18 to represent District 9 in this year's Hunger Games. Before we pick our tributes, we must know the events that have lead up to where we are now. Our country of Panem rose up from what was once known as North America. Panem consisted of 13 districts, each specializing in a certain trade, and the capitol. The districts and their trade are as follows: District 1 is luxury items; 2 is masonry; 3 is electronics; 4 is fishing; 5 is power; 6 is transportation; 7 is lumber; 8 is textiles; 9 is grain; 10 is livestock; 11 is agriculture; 12 is mining; finally, 13 was graphite. Many years ago, war broke out, and, paired with natural disasters such as droughts, storms, and hurricanes. Much of the land originally in North America is not a part of Panem, as the hurricanes and growing seas caused much of it to be submerged. After this war was finished, the survivors created Panem. Everything was well and peaceful for many years, but then there was an uprising, in what we refer to know as the Dark Days. Twelve of the districts were defeated. The thirteenth was obliterated. The capitol then decided to create the Hunger Games, a fight to the death between twenty four children from each district. The last tribute standing wins a life of comfort and luxury when they return to their district. The Hunger Games are our reminder that the Dark Days never be repeated. 24 children will be entering the Games; only one will come out alive. So, without further ado, let us announce District 9's tributes for the year! The honor of drawing the names goes to our escort, Robinetro Flaxine."

Robinetro practically bounces up to the orbs holding the names and beams out at us. I glance over to the girls' section and give Lyn a reassuring look.

"Let's get, like, right to it, right? Ladies totally should go first!" He says, thrusting his hand into the orb containing the girls' names. Finally, he pulls out a slip of paper. Looking at the name, he seems confused. "Rae?" We all wait for a last name, but none comes. A few people turn and look over to the girls' section, at one girl in particular. Hateful whispers start about her as she rolls her eyes and walks to the stage like it's just some minor inconvenience that she is going to be fighting to the death in a few weeks.

"Well, let's totally pick out, like, the male tribute for this year!" He says after this Rae girl makes it to the stage. Thrusting his hand into the other orb, he digs around until he snatches one. Pulling out the male tribute's name, he reads the unlucky guy's name. "Derak Penfold!" For a second I look for this guy, but then double take. Derak Penfold. That's me. Everyone is staring at me, and Peacekeepers start stepping toward me. Terrified, I start running. To where, I don't know. Just away from the stage. I don't get very far before I feel Peacekeepers' arms locking around me. I struggle for a second and then give up, going with them to the stage.

Once up there, I freeze completely, besides my body shaking uncontrollably. Forcing myself to turn, I extend my hand to Rae for a handshake. She stares at it like I just tried to hand her a steaming handful of cow manure. When I realize she isn't going to shake my hand, I turn back.

"We totally have our tributes for this year! Isn't this, like, so amazing? Have a totally happy Hunger Games this year, everyone!" Robinetro exclaims. A squad of Peacekeepers comes to us and lead us to the Justice Building for goodbyes.

Sending us each to separate rooms with a Peacekeeper posted outside each, we go and wait. I'm not aware if Rae gets any visitors, but within a few minutes Dad, Darrel, and Lyn come in to visit. Lyn throws herself at me like a heat-seeking missile and wraps her arms around me.

"Derak!" She wails, "Derak, you got reaped! I wish you didn't have to go! Please, be careful!" I hug her close and look up to Dad and Darrel.

"Derak, try to do whatever you can to come back. I'll miss you. I love you. You're so much like your mother. Do what you can." Dad tells me. He looks down at me sadly. Darrel looks like he wants to take back all he said this morning. Instead, he flings himself at me and hugs me with Lyn.

"I'll miss you, Derak! Please come back!" He cries. I wrap one arm around him, so I have one arm around both him and Lyn. I feel my resolve harden to try to come back, but I know it probably won't be possible.

After a bit more of this, the Peacekeeper outside the door calls them out. Their visiting time is over. No one else shows up to visit me for the rest of the time. Finally, I am collected from the room out to the train platform. Once there, I go over to Rae.

"So, you're Rae. I'm Derak Penfold. So.. Do you think you have a chance in the arena?" I ask. Rae doesn't respond, just stares at me and gives me the cold shoulder. "Okay, not much of a talker. Fine." Turning away, I walk to the train.

* * *

**Rae, District Nine Female**

_**ImmyRose**_

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Dawn.

The best part of the day, if you ask me, although I know that nobody cared enough about me to ask such a seemingly trivial question. Well, it's only a mere question that requires my opinion; something which nobody craved. The ''kind, charming'' citizens of District Nine – home of grain, of all the things we have to produce – all liked to pretend that they _knew_ me. That they _understood _me. Did they ever get anywhere close? You wish. A cockerel squawking at the crack of dawn would have known me better than they ever would.

Dawn.

It's the time of day where the night is banished from the skies by the rising sun, the time where two worlds seem to collide together into a blur of colours. Of indigos and reds, of inky blacks and blues the colour of a robin's egg, of tan oranges and dull grey-blues. Which pairing of colours you got all depended on the day, like rolling a dice. It's the time where the sun wakes up and stretches itself out across the sky, a white star-burst that was untouchable, nestled in hot blue skies. And as the sun wakes up, so does civilisation. Dawn was the period in between peace and chaos. It bridged the space between sleep and wakefulness perfectly. We humans had made it so. Secretly, unconsciously, we wrapped our entire lives around this sun. Our food, our warmth, our lives were entirely dependent on the sun and most people in Panem didn't even realise it. You see, the Capitol thought that they were invincible. They didn't realise that their every heartbeat was reliant on the sun shining on Earth. Why would it; to the idiotic Capitolites, the sun was only there to look nice and make the weather pleasant.

Idiots.

That word is not sufficient enough to describe them but sometimes words just did not cut it. I could exhaust a dictionary with all the synonyms of the word ''idiot'' and it still wouldn't be enough. Disregard the fact that I have no ability to read or write whatsoever. My hands are skilled with blades, knowing a seemingly infinite number of ways I could use one. A simple knife, stolen with nimble fingers from the orphanage, does me far more good than a pencil. A pencil only provided you with another source of communication but my tongue was intact and a pencil served me poorly. With a knife in my fingers, on the other hand, I can hunt. Become an owl among the magpies and wrens that plagued the streets of District Nine. But I did not pay them any attention, finding the relentless twittering of the others annoying. Yes, I preferred the dawn, where I was free to do as I pleased without any witnesses, without any unnatural sounds and without any interruptions.

And right now? I was making every second of the reprieve it gave me count. I had a intimidating-looking butcher's knife strapped to my belt and another knife in my hand. This looked less threatening, with its smaller, curved blade but it was capable of slashing though the toughest thicket in the forest. Of course, that wasn't the only thing that I used it for. One slash with this knife and you could be dead. Only slashing though; it was far too high-quality to just throw around the place. I had taken it myself from one of the many stores of tools that were used to harvest the grain that we District Nine people grew. I do believe that the correct term is a sickle. I have a sickle in my hand. Not a knife. Doesn't really matter; I don't think a sickle is supposed to be used to kill and gut animals. And believe me, I've done a lot of that. You are totally welcome to be wimps and go "Ew, blood and guts. Gross!" but my survival instinct beats any pathetic squeamishness that the Capitolites harbour. Honestly, they are so ridiculous.

The rustling of leaves in the forest canopy above me alert me to the fact that I am not alone. And when I say that, I mean it in a way that means that soon, that small matter will be rectified. My target reveals itself to be a bluebird, happily belting out a tune which alerts all of the more predatory creatures to the bird's location. In this case, me. Just so it can ruin the silence with a song that nobody else will care to notice anyway. Really, why do birds suddenly decide to fly over to a branch and chirp? Were they intending to be annoying and inconvenient? How was one supposed to track down a larger animal by listening for them when all you can hear is the repetitive chirping of a easily-disposable animal? Such a pointless species, isn't it? Yet somehow it manages to live out here in the wilderness, free to flit about from place to place with none of the binding rules of society chaining it to one location. For a brief moment, I envy that bird. That bluebird is welcome to live its life just how it wants to, having to answer to nobody's desires and commands but its' own. Why can't I do that? Why can't I just grab a couple of knifes and a little bit of food and get the hell out of District Nine...

District Nine, where the grain is produced for the Capitol to consume without any good reason. District Nine, where the citizens work to the point of exhaustion, where you can work so hard and gain so little. This district, where there are so many people living here that having a few people ''disappear'' is something that could go by completely undetected. They just…disappear. Disappear like a wisp of smoke and nothing would ever bring them back here. Back here in this district.

District Nine. Out of all the places that this dumb bird could have lived in and it chooses here, in this poverty-riddled area, where I will soon be responsible for its imminent departure from this world. Judging by the unusually small size of the bird from where I can see it, I think it is a young adult. I bet it's barely just grown a pair of functioning wings, no doubt. Well, I am just doing it a favour then, making sure that the bird won't be brutally torn to shreds by a passing fox or even a wolf. No, it will be meticulously dissected instead so that I don't starve and the rest of the remains left in a bush for the crows and the ravens.

It's a win-win situation for me, you understand.

Keeping my eyes fixed on the bird, as if my gaze alone could possibly imprison it, I carefully put my sickle back in my belt and retrieve my other knife. Might not be the most aerodynamic knife that you can get but I could handle that. Without a second thought, my wrist flicks backwards and releases the knife. I watch impassively as the knife cuts though the air and embeds itself in the bluebird's chest. The bird drops like a stone through the branches as the superior weight of the knife drags the limp body down. Walking over to the bird, I examine it as I pull the knife out. Mind you, I have to be very careful when doing that because the surface area of the knife blade is so large and the bird is so small that it's almost sliced in two.

Oh well, I can make do. Really, I could have done worse and it's better than starving. Anything was better than that. I pick up the dead bird gently, making sure that it didn't decide to become two halves, before throwing it into my bag for later. I might as well keep it. Sunrise is approaching and although the Reaping is at two, suspicions will be abounding around the orphanage if I came in with blood on my clothes, a knife and sickle on my person and a dead bluebird in my bag.

Apparently, such an occurrence was considered ''odd'' by the rest of the District. I would usually pay them no heed but I did have to stay under the radar of the Peace-keepers. If you hadn't met the Peace-keepers of District Nine then allow me to introduce them for you. If you ask them for anything, whether it be directions, a piece of bread or a reprieve to escape being shot in the head, you will not get it. Ever. I have gathered this not from personal experience but witnessing the numerous times a white-clad Peace-keeper decides to grab some weak child at random and letting them take a bullet to the head. Always making sure that it wasn't me, it can't be me, it wouldn't be me, it could be me but it's not. And then afterwards, I would chastise myself because why would the Peace-keepers choose me, out of all the people here?

And even more importantly, why should I care if they did?

Why should I care so much about my life?

Most people would consider that a stupid question. Of course you should care if you were going to die, what on earth was wrong with you for saying otherwise? Well here's the thing; what is so great about living? I find no happiness in material items like money, clothes, housing. On the contrary, I find such things shallow.

Only another one of the many stupid things humanity obsess over. Only another thing to give ourselves the appearance of superiority over the other animals. Only another thing that we can use to say that we are the best because we have fashion while the kingdom of birds do not. Fashion! But really, this silly façade of civilisation is just that, an act to fool ourselves into thinking that we are above it all, that we can defeat nature and how the world works because our hierarchy is so very complex. Yes, our hierarchy is a complicated one, isn't it? So very divided and unfair. In the end though, it doesn't matter. Singing won't save you, money won't buy you freedom and acting civilised was only an invitation for the stronger to attack and obliterate you.

And I had full intentions of being part of that group. The strong and ruthless and powerful, held back by no chains that family and friends form around others. No, I stand alone. And I prefer it that way.

Like a child playing a game of peek-a-boo, the sun appeared from behind the trees, catching me off guard as beams of sunlight illuminated me in the coming morning. From behind, you could probably catch a glimpse of my plain brown hair as the wind ruffled it slightly. Split ends were rampant there; chopping off my hair imprecisely with a knife whenever it grew too long and troublesome for my liking was evidently not the best way to look after your hair. Speaking of, I should probably chop it all off in some messy pixie cut soon; it was already at my shoulders. Long enough to get into my eyes and blind me if the wind was blowing in the right direction.

A ray of sunlight strikes me directly in my right eye and I quickly stumble backwards into the shadows, not being able to see anything at all for a few seconds until I end up on the ground. My vision is faltering like the air was a piece of ribbon and somebody had decided to tug on it. I wait for the moment to pass, hoping that my eye would function again in a moment. If it didn't, I would definitely be screwed.

Well, how was I supposed to live in a place like this if both of my eyes lost their sight? My left eye was already out of commission, although you wouldn't be able to tell from the way that I walked or the way I observed and noticed things. My gait was silent and balanced, making no more noise on one side than it did on the others. Even in the forest, where the slightest misstep could snap a branch or crinkle a dead leaf, I was totally silent. As if I was walking on velvet. And my vision was just as good with one eye. It's not like some people might think, where you lose half of your vision or whatever because you lost an eye. No, I had largely retained most of my sight although I occasionally swivelled my head around to compensate for my disability. Well, maybe disability is the wrong word, because I wasn't always like this, wasn't always half-blind. If the rather obvious jagged scar that stretched from the top of my right eyebrow sloping downwards into my left eye wasn't any freaking indicator of this.

As you can imagine, it hadn't done wonders for my appearance, not like I had been some teenage supermodel for magazines to begin with anyway. Especially after I had tried to stitch it up again. Rough, imprecise lines ran down my scar, making the injury look far worse than it was. Well, you would have done the same if you didn't have a hospital available. I could have gone there but that would have just gotten me into deeper trouble. A hospital in the Capitol had all of those fancy gadgets and technology from District Three that could bring people back from the point of death. A hospital in District Nine, on the other hand, would essentially be a warehouse converted into a storage room for expired medical supplies and dying people. Known to us as temporary graveyards, I would have received no wonderful Capitol cure to save my eye there. Even if they did have such procedures – which was highly unlikely – I doubted that a mere orphan like me would be entitled to such privileges. And if they did, it wouldn't be offered to me. Most definitely not.

So there I was, only a few years ago, when I was on my own, injured. Trying not to move too much so that the pain didn't intensify. It didn't help, I was still vulnerable, still in excruciating agony. If anybody had passed by, it wouldn't have taken much for them to end the pain. Permanently. At that moment in time, I wouldn't have minded. Anything to escape from it. Actually, it felt like I was going to black out a few times from the pure torture of it all.

Well, at least the pain wouldn't seep into my subconsciousness, would it?

Covered in my own blood, trying my best to minimise the damage done to my eye, trying not to scream from the non-stop pain that was coming from my body, yeah, it wasn't my idea of a picnic. To be fair though, the pain and the blood obscuring my vision and the darkness are still entwined in that memory so I don't really remember it too well. Neither do I want to, but occasionally something will remind me of that time. Might be just a random mixture of jumbled thoughts, flashes of me – injured – and spurts of red but I do remember that night, two years ago. And it's no surprise that I remember just how I ended up in that state in the first place.

Let's just say, it was a _life-changing_ experience. When I say this, I do mean it quite literally.

Standing up, I observe the perimeter of the forest one last time before starting the long trek home. Better be ready for the Reaping day, you never know when it would be you. You never knew when you would be picked to battle it out against twenty-three other kids in some forest or whatever. A forest that would be completely controlled by a bunch of idiots, aka the Game-makers. Oh, and the small matter of the fact that only one person could live. Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn't it?

And with my luck, it would probably be my name that rings around the dingy town square today. I should feel worried but I don't.

I look down at my clothes while I walk; I'm wearing a tight brown top and a deliberately baggy pair of cameo tracksuit trousers. A pair of faded trainers completed my outfit, which defied the usual belief that the Reaping demanded your best clothes. The fact that they were splattered in mud and some dark red stains which you probably didn't want to guess at only added to the effect.

Oh well, it would do for today. If the other children didn't like it then that was their problem.

Unlike everybody else, I looked tough and not anything like the wannabe Barbie girls that the upper-classes of District Nine imitated. Seriously, nobody was going to notice the fact that your dress was hand-made by the 'finest seamstress' in District Nine or if your hair had a red ribbon or a blue ribbon in it.

Nobody cared about that. All the other people in the district wanted was to not be reaped or have their child reaped while all the Capitolites wanted was the death of twenty-three children every year. Fashion just did not factor into that equation at all so why bother? And like I said earlier, I was no model. My skin was an olive colour from the sun, seeing as I went outdoors on a regular basis, but hundreds of minor cuts, scratches and bruises marred it, accumulated from the hours in the forest. My hair was a dull brown colour and not very well looked after. Actually I found my hair to be one of the many pains that this life gave you and went about chopping it all off, way too often for my liking. There was no room for subtlety when doing that, mind you, and it looked like I had dragged myself though a thorn bush. I was of the short and skinny type, mainly the short part of it as I was severely lacking in height compared to a lot of people my age. Although I was fifteen, I found myself being outdone in the height department by people three years younger than me. Consequently, many people had initially thought that my stature meant that I was a pushover. After a few fist-fights, they had soon realised the truth.

_"Aw, look here. It's a little kitty cat all on her own. Do you need some help to find your way home?" A voice sneered as I was eating a piece of bread in the scraggly garden. The garden that had been granted to the orphanage years ago. It was not the most well-kept one, with dead plants everywhere and overgrown weeds choking the potted flowers like fog._

_Licking the last few crumbs of bread off my fingers, I turned around to see one of the older orphans, Charlotte, appear around the corner with a mean smile on her face. I was not too surprised to see that it was her. Ever since I had alerted everybody to the fact that her blonde hair was in fact dyed (were the dark brown eyebrows not a good clue?), she had nursed a grudge against me. And it looked like she was planning on unleashing that on me now. I doubted the thought of me being competition had even crossed her mind. What was one little girl that was barely ten years old against an older girl that was well-accustomed to pushing around people weaker than her? That was true, what I had just said. I was still as tall as I had been when I was six, which was only inviting people like Charlotte to try and prove their ''superiority'' over me. Like I was just gonna let that happen._

_"No, but I could ask you the same thing. Did you forget your newest lapdog?" I asked her, looking around in a overly dramatic manner for somebody to appear. Only a few people were in the same area as we were and none of them were boys, which only added to the effect, "What's his name, Eric? That guy with the natural blonde hair?" I added that part about the blonde hair just to irritate her further while I pouted at her with mock sympathy. Charlotte scowled, not pleased at my unsubtle referencing to her hair and her ridiculous inability to go anywhere without dragging a boy along. Today just happened to be a miraculous one-off as she was on her own. Don't expect that to happen again._

_"God, just shut up Rae," Charlotte practically whined. Well, she isn't used to dealing with people not respecting her. The great Queen Charlotte demands that everybody drop down to their knees and worship the ground she walks on and most of the mindless sheep that I call my fellow orphans are happy to do so. Independent thinking was almost impossible to come by here, "Don't you know that the big bad wolf is related to a puppy? Because I'm going to tear you apart." She gave me what I think is supposed to be a scary grin, with yellowy teeth bared at me. Personally, I thought it resembled a clown's smile better; cheap and pathetic._

_I smiled at her back, but my smile is far meaner than Charlotte's could ever hope to be, "That's nice, but the cute, innocent kitty is related to the tiger and lion, you know. I think you might want to back away now before my claws ruin your hair."_

_Charlotte tossed her hair back confidently, "Please, you couldn't even touch me."_

_I raised my chin in defiance of her previous statement, "Was that a challenge, Charlotte? Because I'd be happy to accept it." I smirked at her just to wind her up even further, knowing that my façade of arrogance would infuriate her to no end. Except for the fact that it wasn't an act because I meant every word and I was perfectly willing to back it up with actions. There was a small part of me that was looking forwards to seeing how my newest rival made a fool out of herself._

_The answer came in the form of a fist aimed at my head. Rolling my eyes, I ducked and in the same movement head-butted her in the chest so that she is sent stumbling backwards a few steps. While she's off-balance, I aimed a punch that hits her squarely in the stomach. This time, she ends up on the floor and I placed a foot on her chest, holding her there._

_"You're predictable," I informed her neutrally, "Everybody becomes predictable when angered, you should probably work on that."_

_Her eyes, those blue eyes, were burning with so much hatred for me that I laugh. If looks could kill then I would be nothing but a small pile of ash on the cobblestones. It was amusing, Charlotte thinking that I actually cared about something as contrived and insignificant as her opinion. The mere thought of that ever happening put a triumphant smile on my face, "You'll pay for this."_

_I snickered at her use of a cliché line, "With what? If your group of pampered bitches fight anything like you do then it'll be a breeze dealing with their ''revenge''," I use air quotation marks around ''revenge'' as I doubted their ability to do any real damage. Although I didn't really fancy having to deal with the inevitable problems they would cause so I'd better teach them why you don't mess with me. And Charlotte, their leader, looked relatively uninjured so far. Don't worry though, I'll correct that for her. Removing my boot off her, I waited until she starts to scramble up off the ground before giving her my most malicious grin. Raising my foot, the same foot that had held her against the floor, I brought it down swiftly onto Charlotte's face._

_There was a distinctive cracking sound as her nose breaks and she screamed, more in shock, I think, than pain. Smiling, I moved away from her so that she has some space to get back up, "I don't see that happening. Do you?" I don't give her a chance to reply before I walk away._

_It was only then that I noticed the crowd of people who had loosely surrounded us. Watching me single-handedly defeat Charlotte within ten seconds._

Ever since then, people have looked at me with respect – which is what I expect, to be fair – and fear, which makes no sense as I hadn't even done anything that impressive. In any case, it had lifted my reputation from 'annoying, smart-ass little girl' to a 'threat'. Unfortunately, it had also attracted attention from the 'tougher' guys in the orphanage and several times have I been cornered by an older orphan since then, determined to stop the 'little upstart' from getting 'too big for her boots' or whatever. Their words, not mine.

You can see it in their eyes as I walk down to the town square. Hatred, envy, respect, fear. It's all I want from them and more. Well actually, I don't really care. Just as long as they backed off and stayed out of my way, then we would get along just fine.

It's a long walk from the forest to the centre of town and it's about to start when I arrive. I just sign in and then I go over to the back of the crowd with the eighteen-year old girls are. None of them question it, I always go here as it's the closest to the orphanage and therefore meaning that I don't have to fight though crowds of terrified kids to get out. When I had first signed in for the Reapings, I had almost fainted from being trapped by so many people. People that would not shut the hell up, not for one second. All the whispering and jousting and shushing had turned into a relentless wave of sound that had made me grit my teeth. It was so loud and noisy, being in a crowd. So much noise, it felt like my head would explode from the overwhelming amount of information that was streaming though my ears. At first, it had simply been unpleasant but after half a hour of so, it became unbearable. Honestly, I had just wanted to turn to the annoying girl next to me and slap her for her non-stop giggling at the person who had been reaped. Not even I was mean enough to openly laugh at somebody that was being sent to their death. Although I found the action itself annoying and not the reason behind it.

The two tributes from our district hadn't even made it past the bloodbath, being one of the fifteen tributes who had died there. Fifteen! I didn't keep a track record of the Hunger Games but I'm pretty sure that could class as the most number of deaths at the Cornucopia ever since the Hunger Games had been established. I didn't know about who won the Eleventh Hunger Games as I hadn't bothered to turn up. I have no clue about how the Peace-keepers responded to my truancy or if they had even noticed. Did they realise that one girl – a mere thirteen-year old girl – had skipped the Reapings just so she could spend more time alone in the woods? I doubted it, the last Reaping had gone fairly uneventfully for everyone bar two families. That year, some girl from District One had won. I think her name was Glitter but who really cared?

It was a ridiculous name, but that was to be expected. This is District One we are talking about here.

However pretentious the name 'Glitter' was, it sure beat my name. Rae. The only reason that I'm known as that was because of how the orphanage staff found me. Apparently, there was a 'ray' of sunshine shining on me as I was sleeping on the doorstep, wrapped in a blanket. A beam of light on that supposedly cloudy day when I was discovered and so they thought it appropriate to name me after a ray of sunshine. One slight problem though; the orphanage staff do not know how to spell. That's how I came to be known as Rae. With a e, not a y. It's also a stupid name but I don't care enough to try and change it. It's not like many people call me by my name anyway.

I'm brought back to reality by the mayor arriving on-stage. He looks bored as he decides to show us the film that we see every year. Basically, it's a bunch of propaganda about how amazing the Capitol is and how lame the Districts are in comparison. Well, I think that's what it was all about. To be honest, I had never paid the slightest bit of attention to it and the only information I knew about it was gleaned from the irritated mutterings of the other eligible children. If it hadn't helped anyone here before, I doubted it was going to help me. So I just zoned out and hoped that the Capitol escort didn't feel the need to explain every detail of his life to us like he had done in previous years. Like the Treaty of Treason and anything else the mayor had to show us, nobody cared about if pink eyes were fashionable right now or not. Ugh, fashion. It was such a waste of time and only seemed to exist so that some people could feel like they were better than others because of what clothes they were wearing. The whole point of fashion was just to boost your ego. And I had no need for that.

"Rae?" I turn around, preparing to scowl at the person who dared question the validity of my name. Yes, I didn't like my name but that didn't give people the right to mock it. I clench my fists until I realise that everybody is staring at me. When they back away from me, making a path to the stage in the process, it becomes apparent what has just happened. The escort has just called my name but since I only have one, it probably thought that it was a fluke. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't.

Oh great, I'm going into the Hunger Games. Just what I needed. I wasn't being sarcastic there at all by the way: who wouldn't want to be shoved into what was essentially a giant playground for the Game-makers to play with and possibly kill you in the process?

While you were trying to avoid twenty-three other tributes who were trying to kill you?

With at least six of them having trained most of their lives to hunt down the others?

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for success and fame. Who could possibly want to miss out on that?

Rolling my eyes, I sigh irritably before shuffling my feet down the path that had been created for me, noting everything that was going on while doing so. Scanning me with their shocked eyes at my clothes, which were dirty and far too casual for the Reapings. Whispering maliciously at the prospect of my death.

"It's about time she was picked. She'll get what's coming for her in the arena."

"We'll see how high and mighty that girl is when she's cornered by the Careers."

"I heard she didn't attend one of the Reapings, two years ago, I think. It's a good thing that she turned up today."

"Ugh, did she even bother trying to look presentable this morning? Even Rae must have standards, right?"

I catch a glimpse of fake blonde hair. Yep, that's Charlotte all right, being true to form with her comment about my appearance. I resist answering with a snide remark back as I step up onto the stage. Now, most people would be terrified at the possibility of entering the Hunger Games. I was just bored. That didn't mean that I thought my victory was a guarantee. Neither did I bother plastering a fake smile on my face or confidently shouting out that I was going to be District Nine's first ever victor or whatever the Career tributes did. Acting arrogantly was a weakness and flaunting that fact was never a good idea if you wanted to avoid unwelcome attention from the others. The chances of District Nine getting a victor out of me were not the lowest but I doubted that I was going to win. However, I had a higher chance than some did.

"Derak Penfold." Well, I sure damn hoped I had a decent chance because my district were certainly not going to make a victor out of that. As soon as the weakling's name was picked and the realisation had sunk in, he tries to run away. Where he was heading for remains unknown as he doesn't get very far before he runs into a Peace-keeper. Barely a minute later, he had been restrained and was now standing – or rather, shaking – beside me. His hair was messier than mine, with dark brown cow-licks sticking out everywhere, and his dull grey eyes were wide with fear.

Pathetic. It was clear that he would be sharing the same fate as last year's tribute. He – Derak – outstretches his hand for me to shake. I just look at it like it was a snake, with contempt and disgust. No way was I associating myself with anybody like him. This guy didn't stand a chance and if he outlasted me then I was a mouse. Okay, I probably didn't have much of a chance either but why let that stop me?

Was I scared of my low chances at survival? Yeah right, that was never going to happen.

That would imply that I was scared of death, which would be inaccurate. Everybody died eventually, didn't they? So why worry about something that happened to everybody? Why panic and get yourself all worked up over death? It's not like that extended your life span or anything.

_Why fear the inevitable?_

_..._

I run into my district partner again after the Goodbyes had taken place. Well I'm presuming that they're over, it's not like anybody had visited me or anything. No, I had no one in District Nine that cared enough to see me off and I didn't care enough about anyone to be offended at this. Basically, I had spent the entire hour contemplating my situation as a tribute.

_What was I going to do about this?_

I had a fairly basic plan about what I was going to do for the pre-Games events, the chariot rides, the training and the interviews. But one hour wasn't really enough time to work on the little details that could snag me an extra sponsor or two. Guess I was going to have to think about that later then because right now I was on every television screen in Panem, if the chaotic eruption of white-blue light bursting from the cameras taking pictures and recording our expressions weren't a good clue to this. I catch a glimpse of me on a screen and I'm gratified to find that I appear bored with all of the attention that I was currently getting. Well I was, it's not like you could judge a tribute's worth by the way they walked over to the train station, was it? Mind you, this was the Capitol we were talking about here, they judged people on the stupidest things.

Yeah, I was not looking forwards to that. Well, I wasn't looking forwards to having my last days being trivialised by glitzy dresses and plastic jewels, to having my identity reduced to a letter and a number while the Capitolites placed their bets. It was insulting, taking something as simple as killing and botching it so badly. Couldn't they just kill us in the arena already and not waste time glamorising it like some sort of reality TV show?

That clearly wasn't how the Capitol worked though. They liked playing with their food like a cat with a half-dead mouse did. The Capitol enjoyed toying around with us before devouring twenty-three mice. Every single year since thirteen years ago. And this year, I'm one of the mice doomed to this humiliating fate.

_No second chances and no escape, I'm just a little mouse being played with by the cat._


	11. District Ten Reapings

**A/N- **Now I know the update date isn't supposed to be until tomorrow but DA Member Hogwarts is going on holiday so I decided to put it up today just for her :D

So anyway, thanks for everyone that has been reading Thirteen. Thanks to all the authors that have been reviewing, and thanks to anyone who isn't an author and has been reviewing. It means a lot to all of us.

Anyway I present to you District Ten ... be prepared for complete awesomeness! :P

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**DA Member Hogwarts A/N-** There may be eludes to things in here that make you feel uncomfortable but I took that in to consideration and toned down these things and didn't be vivid at all about it so I hope there is nothing TOO inappropriate. (This is mainly directed to my good friend from the chat thread Katnissfire87654, who gets awkward at 97.43 % of the things I say – hahaha :) )

If you like my chapter then send me liquorice ... the red kind ... THE RED KIND!

– Megan.

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**Erina Harte, District Ten Female**

_**DA Member Hogwarts**_

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_Dear anybody,_

_Whoever you may be and wherever you may come from, I know that you are probably like me in some way. I know this because you are a living and breathing human being who feels and thinks. We're all the same aren't we? Same beating heart, same breathing lungs. If you are there, though I will never know it, just like all of the other times I've written to you, I hope you will listen and get something out of what I am writing to you. They're just words on a page but essentially this is me, it's always me trying to get through._

_I feel that way again. I feel lost and I feel afraid of what that truly means. I feel like I am trying to hold myself together a lot of the time as if I am glass that is so fragile and oh so close to breaking point. Better still actually, I feel as though I am already broken glass, shattered remains of something that once was, broken remnants that lay there – useless, pointless, defeated and done._

_I sometimes wonder why I am even writing this and I know that no one will ever read these scribbled musings. Although I do wish they would, even just one person and that of course explains why I address these loggings to anybody - that is my point! It would take just anybody to understand and to care enough to really understand it. I just want to know there is one person out there who truly feels, who truly listens and who knows the real me and what is inside. Sometimes I feel I am waiting to be saved and sometimes I feel the thing I need to be saved from the most is myself and my own mind and thoughts._

_I feel like sometimes I am screaming so loud, from the top of my voice, in a crowded area and yet no one looks. I feel like I am swimming in a vast sea, like what we see in district four during glimpses in the reaping recaps, and I am trying desperately to get to shore and then something has hold of my ankles and is pulling me down. Down._

_I feel like I am struggling to move and let go but nothing happens and that I am being pierced by icy shards of hopelessness and resignation that things will never change and I will never be rescued. I know that I am rambling and I know this can't make much sense for anybody but me but I don't know how else to take these demons from my head._

_Maybe the best thing would be if I didn't feel at all. Maybe if I could just forget and slip in to sweet oblivion. Maybe I would be better off if I ... was ... no more._

_Maybe I am getting off track. You're probably wondering who this girl is and what is she trying to say? So I'll start from the beginning, or as close to it as I care to share._

_My name is Erina Harte and I am nobody really. Nobody important that is, so you probably don't know me. Well, I'm 16 and my home is the lowly District Ten of Panem. Poverty is as common as dirt here which, coincidently, we have a lot of both. I have as many friends as my family has money and I'm rather strange._

_That's the shortened version of course and I've probably lost you already. Who would want to know about Erina Harte from District Ten?_

_I'll keep going though in the hopes that I am wrong and that just one person wants to know. I feel like I have a lot to say today. Yesterday brought about many changes but in ways I am still the same, it's strange and I am trying to make sense of it all. I push most things to the back of my mind and pretend they aren't even a part of me or convince myself that it is something foreign and disconnected. I even made belief before that I wasn't who I or who anyone else thought I was but it was all fictional and imaginary._

_This time I know it won't cut it. How do you brush away your impending death? I told my best friend Rowena that it was merely as though one of my stories had came to life. I was now Erina the Brave, warrior princess embarking on a noble quest. She laughed of course, even though she was crying._

_I know deep within what is left of my heart that it is all make belief and it is all a cover up. I sometimes have these stabbing moments of pained realisation and I know that I know exactly what I am doing. I am living a lie and I am trying desperately to get away from the Erina I really am._

_Someone once told me that no matter how bad things seem to be for me in this world, there is always someone else worse off. It was my father who told me this before he passed away that is._

_I'd believe him. It's true isn't it? If you really sit down and think about it there must be someone else worse off as all humans have their own trials and sufferings. I'd believe my father's words, I really would. I'd believe them if I didn't know what those words really were. I'd believe them if I knew they were not just a hollow justification for all that he was doing to me, all that he has done to me._

_Around here whispered guesses of what has happened to me flit in and out of my neighbour's windows as often as a simple mosquito. These are usually the classic excuse people churn out in order to account for my strangeness._

_"Why does that girl talk to herself?" It's because of her father. "Why does she live in a fantasy world?" Her father abused her for years when she was just a child. "Why is it that she makes up stories and believes in strange things?" The abuse from her father drove her mad and addled her brain._

_Those are some of the more frequent responses._

_I'm often told to get my head out of the clouds but I just say I'd like to walk among the sky. I just say what I feel at the time and that's why they think I am so strange. I don't think I am crazy but then again how would I know if I, myself am something? I even confuse myself with my turbulent and ever conflicting thoughts. Does that ever happen to you? Does your own mind ever feel as though it will collapse in on itself?_

_I suppose you'd want to know exactly what went on between my father and me. You'll tell yourself that you don't of course. Oh no, it's fine, you can spare me the details! But people, they always want to know. I don't want you to pity me. But it is a part of me that cannot be erased or changed. Just like you cannot change who your parents are or change the colour of your skin. That's just the way it is. You've probably gathered that the reason I fabricate the truth so often and run off in to my own private fantasy land is because I just can't deal with the truth. Perhaps I am weak? But maybe I am strong for finding my own coping mechanism. It's up to you, dear unknown correspondent. You'll make up your own mind anyway._

_It doesn't matter how far you run from your problems because they will appear and especially when you least expect them to. It's like a flashbulb moment, that's how I describe it. A certain memory will flood your entire being just like that. It can be a certain sound like a haggard breathing or a young girl's screaming or slightly hushed sobbing. It can be some type of smell like a sour drunkard's breath or the faint scent of body odour. It can be the sight of a darkened room or a locked door or a taste of bile in your mouth or blood on the inside of your cheek. The worst are the feelings though and the certain touches that turns on one of those bulbs, like a body brushing too close to your own, a hand clamping down on a fragile wrist or the feeling of exposure when it is so unwanted._

_It does not matter if these instigating triggers are filled with innocent intent or carelessness. When it hits you, you are back in that moment and you know that the fear is still in control. It's a hopeless feeling and despite the light bulb being alight, never a darker moment exists._

_Is the picture clear enough now?_

_All that really needs to be said is that my parents never had an easy life together and you can probably think of many people to blame. My mother married him very young and fell pregnant with me. Her own family didn't approve of their relationship and turned their backs on her and essentially on me. All she had was him and I guess I was just an extra, just something that was there. I suppose her pride wouldn't let her leave him and where would she go anyway. They fought and struggled for as long as I can remember but those were the days before. Before my life really took shape, before he moulded me in to what I am today._

_When I was nine it began. I can't really put a date on it and it would be rather unpleasant to do so. But he owned me and I knew it. It was like an insect that you know is lurking in the dark corner of your room but you don't know when it will emerge. You know it will though. And my mother for her part let it happen._

_He died when I was thirteen and I suppose you could call that the best day of my life but in truth I just didn't know what I was anymore. I mean my life for so long had been so traumatic. I had been a prisoner in my own home and I knew nothing else and that is why now I make it all up. I don't have much of a reality because I don't know how to be me. I know that once the stories and the lies and the imagining are gone, all that is left is the hurt._

_It was a heart attack if you are wondering. I used to tell myself that his heart just could not process all of the evil and the darkness within him. I know that is not true. It was his time to go or whatever people say. Maybe it was a miracle and maybe it was nothing._

_I know I am being vague here and it must just seem to you that I am piecing together a rough and hazy picture but the facts are there and that's all you really need._

_Anyway, I've told you a lot of it before. I just like to run through it all from time to time when I write to you again, just in case things have changed._

_Speaking of change, yesterday was the biggest one yet. You know all about the event they call 'The Hunger Games', I've told you all about them so I won't bore you._

_It's a terrible concept, children being chosen to fight to the death on camera and with one winner who has to live a life of lies. It seemed so foreign to me, like a story, just another story. But now here I am in midst of it all. I am District Ten's female tribute. I don't know how I feel. I think that no matter where you go it's not going to change how you feel inside. I'm here now in the Capitol and it just feels so distant, like a futuristic horror story. I feel so broken but I already did so it is a personal victory in a way. Being reaped did not change my life dramatically and maybe it is better that it happened to me than to some happy and oblivious child with a loving family._

_I don't want to die but how can I really know that. I have never died before, obviously. So how do I know what it will be like?_

_Yesterday was a surreal and hazy blur._

_In the place so strangely named 'the Justice building' is where I had my last goodbyes. The last time I would set foot in the place that I called home and the place that I called hell._

_I knew I should have been panicking and feeling even angry but I wasn't. I felt weirdly calm and I couldn't stop comparing this place to a dream I had. I had a dream about being in this place after Rowena's great grandma had passed on. I dreamt that before she died, she went to this half-way land, it was vague and there were shining lights and in this place she got to talk to important people before she went "on."_

_Come to think on it I am not even sure now if it was a dream or something I imagined. Either way that is all I was thinking about. Essentially that was what was happening to me, meeting with those people before I would move on to whatever death brings. The difference was for me that a lot of events would transpire in-between the farewell and the departure._

_The peacekeepers brought me to the most lavish and elaborate room I'd ever seen. I wasn't really thinking about the decor though. I was thinking about ghosts again. I know you may think that is random but not for me. Many of my stories and imaginings are about ghosts, for whatever reason._

_A peacekeeper had led my mother to me in that room._

_The peacekeepers are those who enforce the Capitol's bidding within the districts. They stand by and let people suffer and they just go along with what they know as 'law'. Kind of like my mother. Like how she stood by and let my father's own personal law rule my life._

_It was unemotional for me. I do love her. How can you not love your own mother? But I don't have the energy to try with her anymore. What is done is done. She wasn't there for me when I needed her most, so why should she have been of any help to me yesterday. She stared at me blankly with some tears in her chocolate brown eyes and I felt like I was seeing her for the first time in my life then._

_It was just so bizarre._

_Rowena came to see me after my mother. It's good to have someone like Rowena. I am not entirely hopeless, I have managed to form a solid bond of friendship and if it weren't for that who knows where I would be. I have a friend, a real and a true friend. Maybe he was right in what he said in this sense, my father. Some people aren't lucky enough to find companionship like this. I feel like Rowena and I just click and we fit. We are like the two misshaped jigsaw puzzle pieces that others threw away, seeing them as useless. But somehow when we came together, for whatever reason, we were a perfect match._

_She is a good person, Rowena. She wanted to volunteer for me. I could tell by her body language as we stood shoulder by shoulder and heard the dreaded announcement of my name. I wouldn't let her though. Rowena is needed by her parents and siblings. Rowena matters._

_And after that, that was it. They took me here._

_Have you ever felt so lost and so hopeless? Is there a moment in your own life that you felt you could never go back but you weren't even sure you wanted to? Do you ever wonder what this is all about and why we as people even feel anything at all?_

_I bet you do._

_Maybe now you feel that you know me. In my last moments and while I am writing this, it is odd that I actually feel so alive. I really feel a sense of myself today and I hope it comes across to you. It feels like for the first time in ages that I am actually living and it feels great._

_So that's me. That is who I am._

_My name is Erina Harte and I am almost no more. My name is Erina Harte and I am nobody. My name is Erina Harte and I am a Hunger Games tribute. I am nothing more than a statistic. I have lost myself and there is no getting me back._

_I am Erina Harte ... for now._

_So, thank you for reading, if you did take the time to do so and thank you for feeling what it is to be me just for one moment. I have always felt torn between wanting to live my life and wanting to run from it but now I guess the choice has been made for me. I only hope that you, anonymous friend are not one of those who have it worse off than me. Not that it would matter to me. I don't think it matters how bad one person has it, it is not going to make your pain hurt you any less. Just because one girl spent her life in fear of being torn apart by her father and her mother stood by as it went on, does not mean that your own pain is any less significant. Somehow ... if I did survive this and I had children and they are upset, I will not tell them it does not matter because someone has it worse because it isn't going to change how they feel right then in that moment. You might think I am crazy but I just wanted to tell you what I would say to my own children, just to pretend for one moment._

_I'll leave you now and hope that you have something to think about and if this is our last ever letter then I wish you all the best._

_Sincerely_

_~Erina_

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**Side Note- **I wanted to make my reaping chapter a bit different and I liked a letter for the format of it so yes this letter/or diary entry was told in the point of view of Erina after she was reaped. I know some might not like that style but I wanted to try it :) I didn't want to just do the normal format of a reaping you know and I know this may feel a bit rambling and jumbled but that is how Erina is :) I appreciate all comments.

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**Bitter Sweeet Lullaby A/N- **Hi everyone, I have loved being a part of 13 so far and have enjoyed all 9 reapings before this and I am sure the last two will be amazing.

This is my first time writing on fan fiction, I am 14 and only started writing a few months back so I hope I do this story justice with my chapter. All comments welcome! -Lexis

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**Alexander Finch, District Ten Male**

_**Bitter Sweeet Lullaby**_

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**Reaping**

It's that day today, the day that any sane person dreads: the day of the reapings. The Hunger Games started 13 years ago in response to the failed rebellion against the ruling Capitol. And ever since I can remember, every year we all have to stand out here and wait with baited breath for the selection of that year's 'tributes'.

The worst thing for me is that they make it out to be something of a celebration, a good thing. The babbling and brainwashed Capitol escort practically bursts with excitement each year because she is the one who gets to choose the 'lucky pair'. It sickens me how false it all is. The Capitol act as though this is for our own good, they justify these Games under the pretence that it will benefit our country and that it is something to be embraced.

How can the slaughter of 23 children each year ever be a good thing?

No matter how you look at it, or sugar-coat or fabricate it, it all boils down to the same thing.

Pointless and vengeful murder.

The Capital controls the districts using their most fearsome tool – fear. They know that nobody is going to go up against them. They've already shown that they are not above snatching away their children and having them killed in the name of entertainment. So if they are capable of committing those types of atrocities there is not telling what else they could do to those that defy them.

My best friend, Beth Hill cuts in to my train of thought. "Why are we all so accepting of this though? I just don't get it! Why does everybody just take it?"

I roll my eyes and feel a rare smile forming on my lips. It's not just anybody who can make me smile.

I'm used to constant statements like this from Beth. She's the type of person to go in to anything, all guns blazing and not think it through properly. It's a good thing I'm often here to put her right otherwise her mouth could lead her in to serious trouble. That is, if I don't lose my temper first. My temper is quite famous around here, once I lose it there is no telling what I would say or do.

It's not like I don't agree with her. Heck, Beth is one of the only few people I do agree with on anything but I know it is going to take a lot more than a few scattered cries of outrage at what the Capitol are doing to us to bring them down.

In fact, I may be even more against them than Beth is; I just know that saying it is not going to make a difference. Not right now. I don't even reply to Beth. She gets there first anyway with another comment. This is how it often is with us anyway. She talks and I listen.

"Why are we going down here so early, anyway? It's not as if we really want to stand around for the Capitol any longer than we already have to."

It's true that we are leaving rather early, walking along together through the crowded and dusty streets of district ten towards the town's centre. She's right. Like I want to stand around with the other teenagers like a bunch of cattle being led for the slaughter, but it sure beats being at home with my family.

Beth is the only person I really confide in or actually enjoy spending time with. Sure I have a few other friends or acquaintances but it's not the same. With them my guard is up and my mask remains intact. They don't really know the whole and real me and it seems to me they don't even bother to know it, although strangers do seem to want to know more about me. I guess it's a classic case of the mystery is more intriguing than the reality. It's taken years for Beth and I to build the trust that we have and I wouldn't want to share it with another person. Beth may be blunt, insensitive and sarcastic but she is 100% real, she tells it like it is and I'm glad of that.

Beth and I hang out for a while at the edge of town until it's about time to make our way to our sections for the ceremony. I grit my teeth as we pass a group of peacekeepers ushering teenagers to their spots. How ironic their names are, they do anything but keep the 'peace'.

We move awkwardly among the crowds and find a spot alone at the very back of the marked off section for 17 year olds. I notice that a few people back away from us while others stare curiously. They stare that is until I meet their eyes and they look away stricken by panic. Beth keeps chattering away and making remarks as usual. It helps me to focus on her instead of my conflicted emotions and my anger at the Capitol for doing this to us.

The mayor and repulsive Capitol escort Jeen Jenson begin to get ready on stage and suddenly there is a peace keeper at Beth's side. He's leering at her in a way that I don't care for.

"Hey little girl, you sure your seventeen?" He asks in an oily voice, his eyes glancing her up and down.

Beth just clears her throat and laughs cynically. "Yeah I am quite sure thanks. I unlike you am intelligent enough to know my own age, thanks."

He just smirks and continues to look at her.

"Didn't you hear her? She's seventeen, otherwise too young for a creep like you, now get lost" I growl at him. He has some nerve to stand around and act sleazy to young girls on this day of all days.

He just winks at Beth and says directly to me, "seventeen is old enough for what I'd need her for" and then he is gone.

Beth just laughs and shakes her head in disgust while I sigh and crack my knuckles a bit to release my anger.

Within the next few minutes the reapings are underway and Beth continues to whisper to me during the entire reading of the treaty of treason. She continues to talk to me until Jeen, the escort approaches the first glass filled Bowl of female names.

Beth holds her breath as Jeen, like every year, starts things by drawing the girls name first.

Before I can even wish for Beth's safety however the blue skinned hand has plunged in to the bowl and retrieved a name all in the blink of an eye.

"Erinaaaaa Harte!" She calls out in her sickly sweet sing song like voice and everyone goes silent for a moment.

"Erina Harte!"

_I know that name! How come I know that name?_

I remember why when I spy her skinny frame and wild wheat coloured hair as she mounts the steps and turns to face the crowd. She seems to be in a daze the way her prominent hazel eyes appear to be glazed over and her large lips are parted in an absent-minded expression.

That's how she always looks though. I know a bit about her because she is one of the unfortunate people torn apart by small town gossip where we live. She lives in the same area as me and the story of her family is one that is as picked over and recycled as the story of my own mother.

The poor girl, I can only imagine what she is going through.

Was it wrong of me to wish this on someone else in the hope that my only friend would be spared? Probably. But I guess it is human nature to desire to protect those who you care about.

Jeen asks Erina how she is feeling right now and she answers her strangely in her low dreamlike voice, "I feel as though I have stepped in to one of my fantasy stories! Like I am a warrior about to embark on a treacherous quest for her life!"

A few people giggle and Jeen starts to gush about how that is such a creative way to think of it. I don't laugh. I do find it strange but I don't laugh. In fact I'm rather intrigued. I'd heard that Erina was rather strange after what had happened to her and that she lives in a fantasy world and often makes up stories.

I may be someone who clings to the truth but I can't help admiring how she does not care how others view her, how she is always herself.

Jeen trills in to her microphone that it is 'time for the lucky boy!' and she wastes no time in picking a name.

For some reason I'm not even paying attention. I can't help staring at Erina on stage. There's something intriguing about her all of a sudden.

"Alexanderrrrr Finch!" Jeen calls out and with a sudden thump I'm brought back to reality.

Beth looks at me with fear filled eyes but I just put up the same familiar guard and walk seemingly disinterested to the stage, even though inside I am bursting with anger.

I walk forward in to the biting jaws of realisation and all I can keep thinking is that I'm definitely never going to see my mother again now.

Not that something like that ever mattered to her ...

Just like that we are taken to the Justice building. I try not to look at the pitying faces of the crowds who start to leave now. The relief is also apparent. What's it to them if two random teenagers die, as long as it is not somebody they know or care about.

I'm still keeping it together, I haven't shown any sign of how this is affecting me and why should I? I'm not going to give anyone the satisfaction of revealing my inner turmoil.

I am however, still shaking with silent anger. Anger is the only emotion I ever struggle to push down. I guess it is the most primitive and there for the easiest one for me to deal with.

* * *

**Justice Building**

Now that I'm alone my thoughts really start to take over. It's like I left my mask at the door. In private I'm something of a different person. I'm not the intimidating and aggressive loner who won't let anyone in. I'm just like everyone else. I'm hurt and I'm fragile.

My mind begins to drift to the place it always does during dark and troubled times.

I begin to tug at my thick, unruly black hair as though trying to stay at grips with reality and trying to keep hold of my emotion.

_Why did she leave me!? What was so wrong with me that she had to go?_

_It had to be me! She stayed two years previous to my birth when Aiden was born and then the next year Keisha! But just weeks after my birth she had to get away from me!_

Before I know it I'm aware I've begun to cry. I brush the wetness away abruptly and shake my head. I never cry, well not often. I just don't feel right giving in to it and it makes me feel weak.

This is why my family are often the subject of ridicule and speculation. My mother just left my father one winter's night without word of warning and she disappeared. All he told us as children is that she left after I was born and lives with someone else. Apparently he is some rich stiff, well rich going by district ten standards, and she never looked back.

This is why I am so distant, so uptight and so afraid of betrayal. I can't let myself get close to someone else who will just leave me without warning.

For years I wondered if she would come back, my childhood innocence saw me making up all of these scenarios in my head where she would come back and everything would be put back together. My mother was the missing piece of my broken heart.

I've always been so alone and never knew unconditional love. My father isn't the most affectionate of people and he favours my brother anyway and constantly compares us, he only wants me when it suits him. My brother is arrogant and pretentious and everything I don't want to be. I remember he used to tell me all of the time that our mother left because of me, because I wasn't good enough. It is the only thing that has ever come out of his mouth that I hold in any regard of truthfulness. Keisha, my sister is the only one I can stand to a degree. She is the kindest and most caring of our broken and shattered family but she is also one of those who just prove to me how false people can be. Keisha's mind is wired in one singular way – it all revolves around Keisha. She is shallow and selfish and only cares about me as an act of duty – I know it.

I wipe away the rest of my bitter tears and sit up straight in the chair as I hear shuffling footsteps approaching. I don't like to sit here and feel sorry for myself but due to what has happened to me I don't see how I can trust others or feel as though someone out there cares. I just get on with it, I always have. I am self reliant and have been looking out for myself for years but the human nature in me does leave me craving for someone to love me.

Now I'll never get the chance ...

My father and eighteen year old brother Aiden both arrive first together. They're both scowling in their usual way and they just stand before me looking disinterested and bored.

They've not come here out of no real desire to say goodbye that is for sure.

Neither of them offers me any words of comfort and I'm glad. I couldn't stomach the falseness.

All my father says is that if I come home he will be proud of me and that they are counting on me and they need me to bring money in and they can't survive without my hunting skills.

Great. I put myself in jeopardy with the law everyday so that we don't starve and this is the thanks I get.

My brother doesn't speak and neither do I. We've never gotten along and he is everything that I hate in others.

They both leave after just moments and before anyone comes to the door to tell them to.

I'm alone once more and left reeling with anger. They both sicken me. They really do.

The double doors swing open again and this time the peacekeeper admits my sister as my next visitor. Keisha stands in the doorway momentarily blank faced. Then all of a sudden she begins to babble incoherently and looks at me with a pained expression.

It always baffles me how quickly she can transition from one emotion to the next. She's like an emotional whirlwind.

I may get on better with Keisha than my father and brother but we still aren't close. We love each other as far as family bonds go but there is no substance. Just the way my father only shows me any care when I do something that meets his approval, Keisha seems to only bother about me when it is of benefit to her.

She crosses over to me in three strides and sits right on the edge of the armrest of the single chair I choose to sit in for obvious reasons. I practically cringe away from her; she knows nothing about personal boundaries.

"Alex, I'm so scared!" She blurts out. Her eyes widen dramatically and she chews on her lower lip.

_Oh she's scared is she? What about me, the one actually going in to the Games? Nope, no mention of how I might be feeling._

I don't even get to say anything else before she starts up another rant again.

"You can't die! I couldn't deal with it! I'd be forever known as the girl whose younger brother died in the Hunger Games. Please do your best, I need to know you will do your best. I need to know so I will be able to cope while you're away."

_Oh poor you, I'll be the one known as the boy who DID die in the Hunger Games._

She looks at me directly, her doe-like eyes now swimming with un-shed tears. I almost laugh at the sheer selfishness of her outburst. How many times did she speak the word I all in one breath?

I open my mouth to speak but again I'm cut off. "You'll do your best won't you ... for me."

_For her?! Oh sure, Keisha. I'll live just so that it won't be an inconvenience on your life._

This is exactly what I mean about Keisha. Oh sure she 'cares' about me. She cares about me as an afterthought and because it is her obligation as my sister. _She_ doesn't want to feel guilty about losing the brother she never really bothered to know. She doesn't want to go through the grief of having a family member die for no good reason. She is selfish to the core and the worst thing is her own oblivion to this painfully obvious fact.

I continue to stare blankly back at her. I have nothing to say to her, nothing that would console her that is. She begins to get desperate now and is running her thin hands through her glossy black curls. I can practically sense the self pity radiating from her. She speaks once more and with the air of one clutching at straws she pleads, "Just promise me you'll come home. Promise?"

I really am fighting not to lose my temper now. She knows I don't deal with emotional encounters all that well at the best of times and here she is begging and pleading with me and expecting comfort, when I'm the one who is most likely going to die. I'm not going to sit here and give declarations of my impending glory. It would be dishonest and fake and I'm not going to degrade myself by humouring her.

"No I don't promise, Keisha. I'm not making any false promises. I don't know what will happen in there but chances are I won't be back so you better start dealing with it because I won't be there to do it for you." Her troubled expression changes so rapidly to one of confusion that it honestly is rather amusing.

Did I sound harsh? Maybe. Were my words blunt? Probably. Did I tell the truth? Yes.

And that's all that matters to me. What's a promise anyway? It's only a word that people through out there now and then to convince others of their apparent honesty.

Promises mean nothing to me. I'd rather be honest and I'd rather tell it like it is and quite frankly I am sick of dealing with people who pretend to care. I know that even if I do die I'll be replaced. Replaced by some new distraction, some other person. I'll probably be replaced before my body even arrives back to them.

They'll cry for a few days, maybe talk about how much they'll miss me and then that will be that.

Family means nothing to most people so it seems. If a mother can get up in the middle of the night and leave her two young children and new born son and move on to a completely new life as if she never even knew them then a sister can get over the death of her brother. Easy.

The ingenuity of humans has always been one of my most hated things, even from a young age I could pick up on their falsities. I'd rather they'd full on tell me they don't care than sugar-coat it with their sickly sweet dishonest tongues.

Keisha, clearly taken aback by my blunt approach, now changes her own and adapts to an equally false angle. "Well, you don't have to promise but you can try! You have just as much chance of making it back as anyone else! You're smart and strong and you know how to hunt! You're brave too, Alex."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at her barefaced flattery and settle for a sigh.

"It doesn't work that way, Keisha!" I tell her exasperatedly and I can hear the heat in my words.

"Anyone can die. All it takes is the right moment and the right move and that's it. We all have the same weakness – we are humans and we are expendable. It doesn't matter how strong or smart you are one blade to the heart and that's it."

She looks at me blankly now, one perfect eye brow arches and confusion clear in her light blue eyes. People like Keisha often get confused at the truth. They aren't used to it and they don't let themselves accept it.

Keisha doesn't get to say anything else because the same peacekeeper returns and ushers her unceremoniously from the building. She hugs me briefly before she goes and tells me that she loves me and that she will be thinking about me.

As I watch her walking away the regret about the way I talked to her surges forth. I didn't even tell her I loved her too.

I often feel regret after I've acted impulsively but at least then I know I've been truthful. People always say what they mean when they're angry. I guess that may be why I'm often angry.

But still, despite Keisha's flaws, I am going to miss her and I do hope they'll be okay without me.

"Here's your last visitor, kid. You have five minutes before you will be escorted to the train." The peacekeeper tells me as he returns to the door. I say nothing. I won't bring myself to associate with this Capitol lapdog.

"Alex!"

It's Beth now. She runs right in to my arms as I stand to greet her. Her small frame clings to mine; her auburn hair brushes my chin.

We pull away and I sit beside her on the couch. Neither of us speaks for a moment and she decides to break the tension in typical Beth fashion with a terrible joke.

"At least now you'll get to see our wondrous Capitol!"

I let out a short laugh and shake my head. Beth's humour is never the best, but the dry sarcasm does make me laugh a little, especially in this moment. It is comfortingly familiar.

She reaches up now to her neck and removes the same worn plain leather chain with a wooden 'B' initial pendant. Her sister Lanni bought it to Beth for her first reaping and Beth has never taken it off since.

"Will you take this for your token?" She asks softly and I accept it from her and put it on under my shirt. No one else is going to give my anything and if I can have something to remind me of anyone, I do want it to be Beth.

The next few moments elapse in the form of Beth trying to give me advice. At least she is not trying to delude me with promises of my coming home.

"And one last thing, you will stay away from those kids from 1 2 and 4, won't you? They might want you because you're strong, but I wouldn't trust them with my life!" I couldn't agree more with her. I don't trust many people unless they give me a solid reason. I know I may want to ally with some tributes. If not just to give myself a better chance than to help out people who I feel deserve it. I hate those kids who think they are all high and mighty because they train for these Games. It's sick to think of someone devoting their whole life to such a cause. They are nothing more than Capitol lap dogs and if there is any way on this earth that I wouldn't mind killing someone, it would be them. I am set a lot by my morals but they usually go out the window in a place like the Hunger Games arena. I don't want to lose who I am and I won't go out of my way to kill, but if they give me the chance I will take it.

"You know I wouldn't! And I doubt they'd want me anyway." I tell her and she nods, appeased.

The peacekeeper returns informing me that they are almost ready to take us to the train and whisks Beth away and this time it really does feel like a suffocating loss.

I may feel that sometimes there is nothing to live for and that my death wouldn't create such a loss on the world but right now when I am faced with it I know I won't give in easily. I'll go down fighting and take as many of those trained kids down with me.

I don't want to become just another death for the Capitol, another statistic in the long list of murdered tributes.

More than anything now I want to make it back and prove to myself that there is some good in the world for me and truly find someone to love.

Though now is not the time.

The Hunger Games is no place for love.


	12. District Eleven Reapings

**A/N- **Wooo just one more reaping after this one and we are on the Capitol chapters *slight hint there for all you authors to get your chapters in soon* ;)

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and stuck with this story from the start, there's so much more to go, we have the lovely Capitol and then the Games begin. I can't wait for that moment, but right now I give you the reapings for District Eleven.

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**pinkgiraffe10 A/N-** I don't want to drone on, but I worked really hard on this and I hope you like it! Enjoy! Without further a due, Tommy!

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**Tommy Dravna, District Eleven Male**

_**pinkgiraffe10**_

* * *

I open my eyes to the sound of birds chirping outside. I yawn and shut my eyes again. I'm still really tired but I must get up, it's reaping day.

I groan and pull myself out of bed.

The sun shines in my eyes and temporarily I can't see. I rub my eyes and walk over to my twin, Ally, and shake her awake. She groans and glares at me, she never has been a morning person.

" Ally! Wake up it's reaping day!" I groan and laugh as I say that. She just looks at me funny. " Come on! Get up! We need to get ready!" I pull her cover out from under her and she rolls off her bed.

" What'd you do that for? I was sleeping!" she slightly yells. I stare at her with a playful look in my eyes.

" It's reaping day! We need to get ready!" I repeat to her. She finally hears me and gets to her dresser for some clothes. She finds a pretty teal tunic and black leggings then starts brushing out her long fire red hair.

I walk over to mine and find my one and only suit that's tattered but acceptable. I feel squeamish in it and take out one of my many baseball caps, my signature look.

I take my brush and start to de-knot my hair from last night. My fire hair is a lot shorter then Ally's but mine is more tangled. Why am I thinking of hair on reaping day? I have no clue, me one. Me's! Stop talking!

When my hair is straight enough I put my baseball cap on. Today it's red like my hair. I look down and notice I haven't chosen any shoes yet.

Whoops! Hehehe...

I find some grey sneakers and slip them on. I look over and see Ally waiting by our door, fully ready and waiting for me. Wow, she's fast.

We walk downstairs, knocking on each door as we pass saying to everyone something like " Yo, Calico and Sam! Get up! Reaping day!" or " Dirtbag and Jasmine! Get up! Breakfast!" or " London! Johnny! Reaping day! Time to get up! These are your last years!" to each. I guess we have many people to pray not to get reaped, especially not London or Johnny. This is Johnny's last reaping and London's second last. But it feels nice that most likely if your reaped you have someone looking out for you and volunteering. Hopefully.

We finally arrive at the kitchen with everyone following us all prim and proper looking. Mom made us a breakfast of eggs and bacon, the rare stuff.

I smile at her as I sit down. She smiles back and hands me a plate.

We eat loudly which isn't surprising since there's, what, nine people here. Phoenix is right next to me and 'accidentally' elbows me in the gut and makes me scream. We are the battle entertainment in this family. I give him a mega wedgie in return.

" Boys! Stop fighting at the table!" mom yells at us and we stop in seconds. We know what it's like if you disobey her orders. It makes me shudder just to think of it.

" Hand over the ketchup, shrimp!" Johnny orders me around like I'm a slave. I grudgingly hand it over and he grunts in reply.

" Hey, Ally! Pass the salt!" London exclaims at my twin. She may be older but she treats us fairly. Ally passes it happily and smiles.

" Gimme the pepper, Oaf!" Calico demands at Johnny. We are always like this. Johnny smirks and holds it way over his head and Calico tries and fails to reach it. We all laugh even though it's at her expense.

" Pass the cheese, London!" Sam cries at my oldest sister. She sticks her tongue out and tosses it at me. I pour it all over mine and then pass it to Sam who gets only the tinniest bit of cheese.

" Toss over the parmesan, Calico!" Jasmine screams at the top of her lungs. Calico gets very startled by that and jumps ten feet up and out of her skin. Everyone laughs again.

" Mom, could you pass the sweat peppers?" I sweetly ask her. She hands them over and smiles. It seems we are the only ones with manners in the family.

" Everyone, finish up now! We have to leave!" mom cries above the rest.

She can always be heard when she wants to no matter what.

We all clean our dishes and put them away neatly, but not without a fight. Phoenix charges at me and yells like a barbarian. He hits me head on and I drop my plate, letting it smash on the cold floor. I glare at him and shriek " You bastard! You broke moms favorite plate!" I punch him and soon we look like a cartoon.

" Enough! Not another word from either of you two until after the reaping!" mom almost screams. Wow. We really angered her. If we don't want to get punished we have to stay silent. We nod our heads and walk out the door.

We all huddle together and shuffle to the town square. A few shoves happen between my siblings but I am obedient and just keep going.

We end up taking a large part of the line when we arrive, and I see why.

Eight people getting checked in from one family is a lot.

We slowly get sent to our spots. Johnny walks past me again and gives me a huge nuggie before going with the rest of the eighteen year olds.

London walks past and gives me a hug then goes to the seventeen year old section. Phoenix jogs past and punches me in the jaw then jogs off to the sixteen year old section. Jasmine strolls by and gives me a high five then holds her finger and strolls to the fifteen year old section. Sam got a dare to only hop like a bunny until the reaping was over and so he hops by and kicks me then hops over to the fourteen year old section. Calico trudged by and gives me a reassuring smile then goes to the thirteen year old section. Ally finally runs by with some friends and gives me a little tink on the arm and goes off with her friends to the twelve year old section. Finally it's my turn. The guy at the table asks my name and I grumble it under my breath. He keeps me here, but I don't know why. Then he brings out a needle and I get squeamish. I absolutely HATE needles and when he takes my finger and pricks it tears come to my eyes.

I turn and run to the twelve year old section where Ally is standing. I put my finger in my mouth so it feels better. Ally laughs when she sees. Her finger is fine. Mean guy for making mine painful.

I look to the stage and think of dad. My useless, terrible, stinking, dad. He left when I was a small child of six. I found out after that he was a spy for the Capitol for families who might become avoxes, but he wanted an upgrade. He fled back to the Capitol and said that we where innocent and asked for the upgrade. He became the head maker of mutts in the Capitol. It sickens me to even think about him. He is the person who made us broke. The person who made me work as a small child. The person who made us have to take tesserae. He was the man who summoned the bad things to come.

I'm left with that cheery thought as our escort, Krissi Dane, bounds on stage and introduces our mayor and all that bore. I just tune it out like everyone else. Better not listen. I heard that if you listen to it with interest, your ears become permanently shell shocked!

" And hear is your escort, Krissi Dane." the mayor announces. Our escort looks as goofy as ever with her half red half purple hair and silver skin.

I still can't believe she's one of the more natural ones!

" Welcome district eleven to the thirteenth annual Hunger Games! I know how excited everyone is, so I want dawdle! Girls first!" she squeaks in that pestering Capitol accent. I can feel every girl tense and hold their breath. Please not Ally, Jasmine, London, or Calico! Krissi plops her hand in and swirls it for half a second.

" Ariella Satey!" she proudly announces. I see some shifting from the girls and I'm just glad it's not anyone I know. Ariella stumbles out and gets up to the stage and just stands there.

" And now for the boys!" Krissi exclaims happily. I partially hope it's Phoenix or Johnny, but I shake that feeling away. Johnny is in his last year and that would be wrong and Phoenix has a stupid deal with the Capitol so he doesn't get reaped.

I hold my breath as she plucks a name.

" Tommy Dravna!" she proclaims and fear courses throughout my body. I have been reaped. I have to go into the Hunger Games. I can barely keep myself from screaming in rage.

I look around at my family and see Phoenix snicker and the rest cry.

Wow, Phoenix really hates me enough to laugh at my death sentence.

The peacekeepers find me and start coming toward me so I take a shaky breath and step out of my little pen.

Everyone stares at me as I march up to the stage trying my best to look confident, but inside it's like a bomb has gone off and people are dancing on the ruins.

I'm on the stage and my anger boils over. I start to shake. Krissi bends down to look me in the eye. She starts to say something, but is sniffed out by my fist. I punch her straight in-between the eyes and she starts to flail backwards, but she regains her balance with a huff.

" Your tributes, Tommy Dravna and Ariella Satey!" she proclaims. She lifts our arms, but I attempt to resist. She let's go and Ariella and I shake hands and are led to our goodbyes.

We go through multiple corridors until I get in a small beige room and lie down on a sofa.

I sob uncontrollably and probably damaged the pillow forever, but I'm going to die so it doesn't matter. I can hear my entire family trying to get in, and they burst through the door with an angry looking peacekeeper behind them.

My mom bursts into tears, and I comfort her. Everyone piles in for a group hug, when I notice someone is missing. Phoenix didn't even show up.

" Mom, it's okay. It's okay. I'm going to be fine. I'm going to be fine." she stops crying. We embrace for the next few minutes until they have to go, but London is allowed to stay for one more moment.

" Tommy, I have to give this to you." she holds out a small wooden box.

I open the box and find a silver locked shaped as a star. I feel the edges softly and a dab of warm liquid sprouts from my finger. Blood. She's letting me cheat. She's giving me five mini knives that I can use in the arena. She's making it so I actually have a chance.

I hug her and she yelps. "I forgot that the locket is still in my hand. "

Tommy, carful with that! It's an actual weapon!" she screams under her voice. I put it down and hug her. Then the peacekeeper comes and drags her out.

My friends don't come, they always are forced into an hour long party because they weren't reaped. The only visitor is Phoenix, and it was just to rub it in. I hate Phoenix, and I would have thrown the star at him but he would just squeal on me and bam I'm dead.

The peacekeeper comes and drags me to the train. I grab my token off the coffee table and slide it around my neck. Ariella and I are shoulder to shoulder and I just run to the train and climb aboard so no one can see me.

I find my compartment and take a long hot shower, thoroughly burning myself and thinking of my family. I step out and get dried off and change into a cotton shirt and pants. Then I go to supper, where there will be fancy Capitol food.

They are all waiting, and I just eat without saying a word. No one talks, so we eat in silence. When I finish my stomach is full and I am incredibly sleepy.

I yawn and go to my room. I find a servant waiting for my orders, but when I order them to get me home they just shake their heads. I give them an order to get me a roman mythology book, which they do in the speed of light.

I shoo them off and get changed into black velvet pants and a white baggy shirt. I jump into the fluffy bed and slowly fall asleep to dreams of Roman spathas, daggers, swords and arrows in the arena, waiting to pierce my flesh.

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**iloverueforever A/N- **Hey guys! Iloverueforever here :D Thanks for reading thirteen :D, We really appreciate it :D I hope you like and I love you all :D

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**Ariella Satey, District Eleven Female**

_**iloverueforever**_

* * *

Amial's blonde ponytail flicks me in the face, causing me to stop. I lay my hands on my knees, lowering my head in between my thin legs.

"Come on Ari!" Amial screams from inches in front of me. I reach up to adjust the elastic, supporting my black hair. I rush forward, legs pumping, feet pounding on the ground. I reach forward and easily tap Amial's back. Her head whips around to face mine but neither of us stops running. This is a race, this is what we love. I reach the tree first and slap it as I pass. Amial groans. "You win, _again_," She says defeated. Amial has never beaten me in a race, wether it be running or swimming. I am quite sporty and love anything to do with being active.

I stick my tongue out at her as we sprint back to the fence. She reaches forward and lifts the fence off the ground for me. I smile gratefully at her then wiggle under.

"Remember, three years ago, last summer?" Amial asks me. I shrug, three years ago is a touchy subject for me. "Remember how before the reaping, Your sister painted our nails and toenails to match her dress." I can feel tears start to brim in my blue eyes as I recall that very day.

_"What color?" Maya asks, looking like a princess from her perch on my bed._

_"Blue!" I shout causing Maya to laugh and throw her skinny arms around me._

_"Orange!" A giggly Amial says sitting beside me on the bed. Maya reaches up and twirls a lock of her black hair, then lets go._

_"Hmmm.." She says tapping her chin lightly with her finger. "Why don't I paint your nails, so that we match?" She says nodding at her lavender dress across the room._

_"YAH!" I screech. Maya kisses the top of my head, as only older sisters would do._

"Of course I remember," I say quietly. Amial smiles kindly at me and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I remember everything about her, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, sometimes I still see her in my room." Amial has nothing to say so instead she leads me towards her house, gently pushing me inside.

I am three years younger then Maya. We adored each other, and did almost everything together. Three years ago, Maya was reaped into The Hunger Games and was one of the eight last standing. That year's victor killed her and my parents forever hate her. Maya was the sweetest person you would ever meet and also the best sister ever.

"So, are you excited?" Amial asks mockingly.

"Totally!" I say looking up as she plops down on her bed beside me. She tears the magazine from my hands and begins to flip through it randomly.

"Look who's here," A voice says coming from the doorway. I grunt knowing the voice. Amial swivels around and chucks a pillow at her gorgeous older brother.

"Hey, Jase," I say not even bothering to turn around. I can hear his heavy feet approaching me.

"Nothing really, just you know, thinking about your sister." All the colors drain from my face as I whip my head around, facing him. Maya and Jase were best friends when she didn't come out.

"I should get going," I say grabbing all my things from Amial's bed and stuffing them in my messenger bag.

Once I exit the small house I breathe in. The smell of dirt and earth wafts through the air and into my nose. I smile as I wrap my ratty jacket around my skinny frame. I love being outside, I love everything about it. I feel like I can actually concentrate outside, instead of being stuffed up inside a small house.

Pushing the heavy oak door open, I meet my mothers blue gaze.

"Sweetie, your home!" My mother says trying to hold in her enthusiasm.

"Yup," I say giving her a warm hug. "I'm going to go change into nice clothes," I say emphasizing nice. My mother nods and turns back to the kitchen sink. When she is nervous, she washes the dishes, one by one, puts them back, and then washes them again. It's sad when she does this because I know she can't help it.

I slip into the silver bathtub and duck my head under the water. I love how the water feels against my skin, slippery, wet, soft like silk. I come up for air and am surprised to see my father leaning against the doorframe.

"DAD!" I yell covering my bare breasts with my arms.

"Sorry," He mutters, and then turns away as I lean my head against the wall.

"What do you want?" I ask a bit annoyed.

"I don't want you to volunteer today, no matter what," He says.

"Of course not," I murmur.

"I can't lose another daughter." He says then he closes the door behind him. I groan and rub the lavender smelling soap across my pale skin.

"Hurry up!" I can hear my mother shriek through the wooden door.

"Coming!" I shout. I hop out of the tub and wrap the yellow towel around my skinny body. Emerging from the bathroom, I saunter into my dimly lit bedroom and stand before the open mirror. I quickly slip on my sisters old lavender dress. She was the same age that I am now. 14. I was 11 when she died.

The lavender silkiness drapes across my bare skin, sending cool chills down my back. The dress flows to my knees and is strapless. My mother appears behind me and gasps.

"M…..M….Maya?" She asks reaching forward and poking my forehead.

"No, Mom, it's just me." I say. "Ariella," My mothers blue eyes fill with tears and she envelops me in a hug.

"You look just like your sister," She says giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Ow," I whisper rubbing my temple where she poked me, once she leaves me to finish getting ready.

I slip into my white flats and exit my room, suddenly feeling happy for once. My father glances up at me, and then gives me another quick look. I can see he thought I was Maya for a second as well. I broaden my shoulders and lift my chin into the air. Everyone loved and knew Maya. _Is this the reaction people will have all day?_ I ask myself. I quickly pull both of my parents out the door not wanting to be late for the reaping. I wave to Amial and Jase as we come upon them and my mother and father go ahead. Jase stares at me for a second then reaches for my hand. Jase is like a big brother to me. Amial occupies herself with my other hand and we walk in silence.

"I thought you were Maya," Jase whispers, so that only I can hear.

"I thought I was Maya to," I giggle back. He squeezes my hand and angles himself away from me again. So as for Amial not to ask about what we were saying.

The rough rope burns against my bare skin as I barrel into it with my leg. I look down, sure enough; a red splotchy mark is beginning to spread.

"Ariella Satey!" Krissi Dane, District 11's escort yells. As she shifts from foot to foot, her purple/red hair swishes in the wind, revealing parts of her bare silver shoulders.

I don't even have time to respond before I am stumbling forward and on to the stage. My blue haze settles on Amial and I shake my head at her, letting her know not to volunteer for me.

The next few minutes of the reaping is a blur for me. A boy come up to the stage and totally flips out. He punches Krissi and she flies backwards, red blood falling to the ground. I rush to her side and automatically rip a shred off of her blue jacket. I press it to her bloody nose and then I glance at the boy. He looks about 12-years-old. Pity crosses my face as I watch the small boy rub his knuckles. Then when Krissi lets out a low groan, anger surges through my veins. How could he hit her, she didn't do anything wrong, sure she's from the Capitol, but not all people are bad. Are they?

Peacekeepers grab me from behind and make me walk towards the building. I can feel the pebbles crunching under my feet as I stumble forward, peacekeepers holding me up.

They push me into the luxurious room and I quickly settle myself in the window seat, curling into a small ball.

"3 minutes," I hear from behind me. I can barely make out two pairs of running feet as four sturdy arms engulf me in a warm hug. I lean against my parents gently breathing in their scents.

"This is for you, your token, Maya darling," My mother says kissing my forehead. I don't even have time to register that my mother thinks I'm my sister before the peacekeepers take them away.

I can feel the hot tears streaming down my face as I curl back into my little ball of warmth.

"Ari," Amial says, tears swelling in her brown eyes as she rushes forward to hug me. "You have to win," She whispers in my ear, tightening her grip on me more and more.

"I can't, Am," I whisper. She pushes back from our embrace.

"Listen to me, you have to win," she says gripping my pale arm tightly. "Promise me, Promise me," She says her voice all strangled.

"I promise," I whisper. Surprisingly my voice comes out nice and even. I can see the door swing open and I reach forward holding on to Amial for my life. "NO," "NO," I scream. "I don't want to die!" I scream gripping her tightly.

"Stop!" Amial screeches. Amial and I exchange a glance as the peacekeeper advances. Tears stream down my face and on to the floor, making a small puddle by my feet. As I lunge forward I can see Amial dive down and grab his legs. The man screams for back up and three more guys come in. Despite our great fighting skills, the three big man are no match for the two of us. The man that grabs me holds me tight.

"Don't make this hard, sweetie, you have another visitor." The last thing I see of Amial's is a flash of her brown hair as the man clambers out of the room. I sink onto the plush window seat and train my eyes on my bare knees. I try to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend like I am back at home with Amial squeezing lemons for lemonade. I open my eyes and I'm still staring at my knees. I try again. This time when I open my eyes, Jase stand there, his back against the wall. He seems frozen. I open my mouth to say something but he rushes forward, pressing his warm lips against mine. At first I stand still, hands by my side, not kissing back. I'm not sure if I should like it or not. I think I always had pushed away my feelings for him but now I raise my hands, knotting them in his hair. His hands run up and down my back making me smile.

"You have to come back" He says when I finally pull away for air. I nod.

"Now, I will for you," I say giving him one last kiss before the peacekeepers take him away.


	13. District Twelve Reapings

**A/N-** Well here we have it guys the last reaping.

Anyway I want to say thanks to everyone that has stuck with this story so far, it would be great for you guys to spread the word to your own fanfiction friends and readers. We still have a long way to go, we have the Capitol chapters and then the Games! xD

Anyway here is the last reaping guys, enjoy! xD

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**Mist 16 A/N- **Well, hello there. Uhmmm…. Maybe I should start saying that I am very excited to finally show you, the readers and my fellow authors, my work. I have been looking forward for this moment forever XD

And before I forget, everybody must listen to Psy's Gangnam Style! (It is a song…. It is a song….. XD) It is a freaking awesome song (and music video) and I absolutely love it. So you must listen it. :P (Sorry for this worthless advertising :P)

Anyway, just enjoy the chapter….. (And don't forget to listen to the song afterwards :P)

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**Aamon Trace, District Twelve Male**

_**Mist 16**_

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The Night Before…

"Are you sure you want this?" Demon asked. His eyes were focused on a small plastic bag filled with white powder that rested on the palm of his hand. Even in the dark I could see a troubled expression on his face. It was rare to see him with that kind of expression on his face. At least, I thought it was; I didn't know him that well, but I've seen him several times on the streets at night. I knew who he was and what he did. People even warned me about him, saying that he was cold and distant, someone who didn't show any emotion. They even said that he was the one who caused the rise of suicide attempts 13 years ago. They said he was dangerous. But those people deny that those people chose death themselves. They said their death was chosen by another person, murder. Can't people see that those suicides are the cause of society? People want to believe our society is perfect. But society isn't perfect and it never will be. There will always be suicide, murder and betrayal. I won't deny it, but other people will. And so, by those denials, Demon's heart and mind changed. He disappeared for a while, but he turned up somewhere in the streets. He became cold, distant with a heart filled with regret. He lost his emotion around other people, afraid that those emotions would hurt him again. Even though I still wonder why he shows emotion to me. I am nothing special after all. I don't even belong in this world. Despite this, I nodded.

"It is some pretty rough stuff, you know." He mumbled after a long time of silence. Then he looked up straight in my eyes, right through into my soul, it seemed like. It was meant to hurt me, I am sure, but I remain unaffected by that look. The pain he tries to give me could never compete against the pain I already have. Could never face up to the deep wound in my heart, a wound that would never heal again, something that even won't turn into a scar. The wound in my heart will always bleed. I've tried to stop the bleeding several times but it was in vain. I have tried everything and I came to only one solution.

The only thing that will take this pain away, the only thing that will heal me permanently is death.

"I know," I replied, my voice as cold as the breeze rustling my hair as I spoke, "I know that that stuff was used by many people who committed suicide after the rebellion," I pause for a moment and take deep breath. The words I am about the say next are words I have never said in my life. I don't remember why I wouldn't want to say and I why I am troubled when I will speak those words. But I know that I am not the person who I was back then.

_Back then._

_I don't want to be remembered of that time. Although there are times, many times, that 'back then' appears in my mind. It won't disappear. Even now, one year later those millions of pieces stuck in my skin won't disappear. The pain that those pieces give me won't disappear. I know they will never disappear. Ever._

I snap back to reality in an instant. I find myself gazing to the grounds, even though all I see is darkness. Why do I keep staring at that darkness?

I don't know.

"But it –" Demon starts to protest. The tone of his voice makes me sick. So soft and careful, it's as if he is trying to stop me from doing this. Why should he even stop me? Why should he even care about me, or pretend to care about me? Nobody else will care when I die. Even he will not care. I am nothing to him. Nothing.

I am mad.

"Just give to me, alright!" I interrupt him, anger taking over my thoughts like a puppeteer pulling the strings of a marionette. For a few moments he seemed confused. His eyes stare at something I cannot see in the darkness behind me. His hands are trembling, clenching into fists as he tries to hold himself together. I know I have hit his weak spot. This guy knows that he is going to let someone else die with that stuff. That is why he doesn't want me to have it. Because I will die by his hands. He already has too much blood that covers his hands. And he doesn't want more. But still, it is not enough to stop me.

"Demon, listen," I command in a tone of voice stronger than I was intending, "We all share the same fate. We all die. Some die in a few days, other die in a few years. Some people choose to die, other people don't. Just accept it that I am choosing my death. And even if you don't, I still have another plan to die. You cannot stop me. No one can."

When I finished my speech I see that his eyes seem clearer, his face is just as expressionless as a few days before when I asked him for this meeting.

"Then you know what you must do." He says eventually. His eyes are focussed on me as I reach my hand in my pocket, searching for the last thing I own. Well, the last thing I own beside my clothes, that is. Something I tried to throw away, but I couldn't let go of. It was too precious. Even though it was a thing from someone who did this to me. I don't know why. Even now I find it hard to let go off.

My hand finds the thing I was looking for. A locket made from diamonds. Something so beautiful, something that shouldn't be owned by a person in this district. The diamonds would have been smeared in coal dust had I not taken care of it. It wasn't mine to begin with. It's rare and special here, the opposite of what I am. But yet someone owned it and gave it to me, the one she once loved.

I grab the locket, take it out of my pocket and hand it over to Demon. Even in the moonlight, his blue eyes shimmer. Maybe he never saw something so special. Maybe he never owned something like that.

Quickly, he hands over that small plastic bag. Then he is gone. I don't look around to see if I could spot him. I won't see him after tonight. Because this night I will die.

As the moon hides behind the clouds and a cold breeze strikes my face, blowing through my dark hair, I take that white powder and I shove it down my throat. It tastes horrible.

It doesn't take long before I feel the effects of the powder. Sharp pain enters my body everywhere, just like piercing knifes. Colours start to blend with each other, forming a dark landscape. After a while only darkness remains. Something I am familiar with since I am always surrounded by it. I stare it, like I always do. Why does it seem so special? Why does it fascinate me?

My feet start to sink in the darkness. Soon after that my legs disappear. I only feel pain, nothing more. I ignore it as I know it will go away. Eventually my head disappears in the darkness. Now I am at a place darker than the darkness. I am in a place called 'death'. I am gone.

* * *

Before The Reaping...

All dreams shatter at some point, don't they? Then they fall in to hundreds, no, millions of sharp pieces. They say it is always hard to pick them. They say the pieces are so sharp that when you grab every piece you will get cut badly. You always get cut, that is what they mean. But the same people also say there is a large number of people who managed to pick those pieces up from the ground. Saying that there are a lot of people who managed to fix their dreams. Saying that those people made sacrifices to continue and live their dream. I don't believe them. I never believed from the beginning. Who says that what they tell you is the truth?

But just remember that those people will never tell you that there is another side. They always tell you that good work pays off; they always tell you something optimistic, something that will give you hope. They never ever tell you the other side of things, just like those shattered dreams. They will never tell you that those pieces can turn against you or that they can disappear. My dream turned against me even with pieces piercing through my heart. My friends turned against, my parents and eventually everyone turned against me. Even so I don't care. It is something that happens to everyone. A sudden turn of events like snow on a summer's day, but this will only last forever. I know I people will go through this. It is fate. It is your fate that turns in the wrong direction. It happens to everyone.

_"Mommy, why is he lying there?"_

_"Mommy, does this person need help?"_

"Mommy".

I used to call someone 'Mommy' when I was younger. It was a long time ago; maybe it was too long to remember. But fragments of that time are scattered throughout my brain. A time where she would smile to me and say everything would be okay. Or the times when she said she would love me no matter what.

What she said were only lies.

Lies said by someone I used to call my mother.

"Madeleine, don't help him. He did something terrible and now he is suffering the consequences. Just leave him alone. He gets what he deserves."

The voice of a woman. Her mother. I want to stand up, walk to her and scream for the pain mother has given, for the pain that all mothers have given me. But my body won't listen; only a piercing pain appears when I try to move. But that pain doesn't mean anything. That pain is too weak.

"Madeleine, listen to your mother and come to me! People like that are bad for your health."

Why is she even saying that? Why am I even hearing that?

_Am I not dead?_

**Then** _am I alive?_

I open one eye. The action was followed by an unbearable pain but I didn't utter a sound. Blinded by the sun I see two people. One young girl and her mother. The girl is practically glued to her mother. She doesn't know what will come to her. She doesn't know what kind of fate she will receive. She is too innocent to understand this hardship in life. Even when her mother talks those sweet words to her, she will find out someday that those words were all lies. She will feel betrayed and then she will run. The mother will be left alone.

But by the words they say it must mean I am alive….

Alive…

A word that I already had forgotten, but yet it appears every now and then. Every time I want to die, every time I wanted to live. Every time I remembered the past. Alive is a word I shouldn't know, because I am not alive right now. I am somewhere between life and death. Death, only when everyone forgets you then you will be there. Alive, a place where you aren't forgotten, where people think about you and care about you. I am in the middle. People remember me and yet they want to forget me.

If I will die somewhere in that one place on that one day. Only then they will forget me, only then I will truly die.

There isn't a second of sadness within me as I open my other eye and realize this is the real world. This is how it was supposed to be. This is my fate and my fate has decided that I am taking my first step to my real death today.

I stand up not caring about the pain that immediately bursts through my body. I only care about this day, only care about that one moment that will decide my fate. This will be the moment where I will take my first step.

* * *

The Reaping..

It doesn't take ages to find my place in the 18-year-old section. It is just there like it was last year, a large open space meant for me to stand just like last year there are people standing in my way as I walk to my place, people who stare at me with disgust in their eyes as I pass them. I wonder if they still know what I did to make them hate me or that they only remember their hate for me makes them hate me. If it was the last reason that makes them hate me. I would laugh. I would seriously laugh at them. People are so pathetic nowadays. Only seeing positivity in everything, denying everything that is negative. It is pathetic.

My eyes carefully watch every person behind my black hair. I watch how they look at me, how their expression changes when I pass them. But my eyes get stuck on one person. I remember calling him a friend a long time ago.

"But that was a long time ago" I want to remind myself, but what was a long time ago still is reality. It isn't something I can't deny or walk away from. It is only there to remind me how people are and what they did. How they shattered my dream and how the pieces are still stuck in my skin. They give me pain; they still do when I see their faces. But they can't hurt me anymore, right? They already hurt me too much to hurt me again. But still they exist and only their existence can hurt me. It is better for me to die, because death makes everything disappear….

I snap back to reality in just a moment and I realize everyone stares at me.

"What did I do?" I ask myself.

I try to notice, but besides the pain I feel, I can't feel anything other than that. Maybe they only stared at me, because they truly hate me.

I don't look them in the eyes anymore. I am only focussed on the ground as I slowly walk to my place. I don't even have to look where I am going, because everywhere I go people step aside so I can pass through.

I take my place and as soon as I focus my eyes on the stage our mayor appears. A tall man with a belly as large as his pride. You don't see him around that often as he treats himself with cakes and bread, something you can't afford when you live here. When you live in Twelve. Here you only get three options. You can live in the town, in the Seam or you can live where I live, on the streets just like a rat. Well, that is what they say. Even so I live my life well.

'Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen to the thirteenth annual reaping of district Twelve," There is a short pause as he takes a deep breath. I see sadness infused on his face. He looks as he is about to cry, but he has always been like that. He has always hated the Hunger Games and as result he gets the honour to be mayor of our district, to witness the reaping from up close. He even didn't get the position because he was the ex-mayor's son. He was given this position because he hated the Games. He continues his speech only looking down, not even facing one person in the whole district, "This shall be reminded as a special day where two brave people shall go to the Capitol and fight their way through death. When they are gone it is for us to grieve our loss and be reminded of the terrible event that happened thirteen years ago."

At that moment he starts reading the Treaty of Treason. Normally people pass out when the long speech about the Rebellion starts. They don't hear any of the words, but I know them very well. There isn't a word in there I don't know. Sincethe time that the Hunger Games started I was always fascinated by the speech the mayor held in front of the audience. Not the Hunger Games itself, just the speech catches my attention. How that speech made everything sound worse than it already was and not the actual words. That was the thing that fascinated me the most. But that was then before everyone started to hate me. Now I really don't care about that important speech, but I can't lose my habit. Old habits die hard, I think. Softly I mimic every word.

"And now I would like you to meet our escort, Zylvia DiMarco," He ends his long speech, still looking on the ground, "Still after all those years she stays true to our District. We thank her for guiding all our tributes." I wonder why he even said that. Everyone here knows he hates the Hunger Games, so why even say that he thanks her for guiding our tributes, for making their life as horrible as possible because they are going to die anyway. Why doesn't he havecourage? He really should have said 'We thank her for letting our tributes die.'

As soon as the mayor takes his seat, Zylvia appears. After all those years of 'loyal service' she hasn't changed one bit. Her eyes still have that blood-red colour and her hair still has the same white colour. The only thing that really changed is her walk, but that is mostly because of her age. At the age of 52 it is expected that she walks with a slight limp. I wondered why a selfish person like her didn't do anything about that. I mean, the Capitol could fix that right away, couldn't they?

"So as you all know we are here to pick one young man and woman who will have the honour to be part of the Hunger Games, but before we will pick our tributes I would like to introduce our new mentor. Due to last year's event the Capitol has decided to change our mentor. So please give a big applause to Zycriss Lenrich."

Then a man walks on the stage. There isn't much reaction from him or from the audience. Maybe some people applaud for him here and there. But that is the best he can get. He takes his seat next to the mayor, who seems to have still a hard time.

"So that is our lovely mentor. And now let's pick out female tribute." Zylvia's voice echoes through the crowd.

"Winter Spry!" That is the name she calls out. From the girl's section I can see someone who tries to volunteer. Her hand almost reached the top point, but someone pulls it down. A girl, most likely her friends. There is some whispering in the girl's section. Most likely they are all talking about that girl, Winter Spry. Said girl takes her first steps to the stage. Her eyes are only focused on her path that already has been cleared while a smile graces her face. She seems happy to be picked, but there is realization behind her eyes. She knows she is going to die and that smile will not save her anyway. They say that those who cry are weak, but those who don't want to show their real emotions are even weaker.

"And now for our male tribute." Zylvia makes her way to the other bowl. Her hands carefully touch every slip, until she picks one.

'Damian Knight!' Her voice sounds through the audience. There is a moment of shock, hesitation and sadness. From the twelve year old section a boy steps forwards. His innocent eyes that only can see the ground. Tears that roll down his cheek, onto that ground.

As he shuffles to the stage, he looks behind him. Maybe in the hope to find someone's face, someone who will volunteer for him. But there isn't anyone. No one will give his life to save Damian's. No one will, not even his brother or his sisters. That is the realization that hits him, like an ice cold wind that pushes him in the back. There is no one that will save him, not even those promised words his brother said to him.

As he almost reaches the stage a shiver goes straight through my spine.

_This is your chance, isn't it? This is your chance to die, just like you had planned out._

My hand goes straight up in the air. There is a slight moment of hesitation, but those words come fluently from my mouth, words that will send me to my death.

"I volunteer!"

* * *

**Winter Spry, District Twelve Female**

**_InSaNeAnNiE_  
**

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A scream echoes through the air and the small boy collapses, his blood staining the ground as he slowly bleeds to death. The girl frantically shakes him, tears making tracks down her dirty cheeks as she tries to staunch the flow of blood gushing from him. Then she makes a choking noise and topples onto the boy, a spear sticking out of her back. Her blood dyes his ash-blonde hair dark red as she writhes in pain. The huge boy laughs, as he kicks her and her cannon sounds. A few minutes the boys cannon goes off. There won't be a victor for district twelve this year.

I watch district twelve tributes from the different years die. Mutts, decapitation, combat, poison, speared from behind. Stabbed in the back by allies. Stepping off their plate early and blowing up. I watch them die over and over. Not a single tribute from twelve has come back, some of them were twelve, and some were eighteen. But none of them had a chance. Of course, last year the boy made it to the final two. But he still died, and it was better for him that way.

Then I see the mutts. Tracker jackers, insects, beasts and water creatures. A huge animal with red eyes, big ears and huge…teeth? Maybe something else. They chase me, running and screaming human screams as they chase me through my nightmare.

Then it flashes to the reaping and it is soundless, and her lips keep moving, mouthing the name Winter Spry and then a scream pierces my ears and I jerk up. Birch is sitting straight up, her dirty blonde hair tousled and her breathing ragged. She shivers and glances at me,

"Reaping day," she says, "We'd better get up."

I nod and wipe sweat from my face. We each have a very quick bath and dress in plain clothes. Then we go into the other room and sit down with Elm and Aunt Elle. We have eggs and bread with butter for breakfast because it's the reaping today. After we finish we go down to the shop and help her set up for a day of trying to get business in her small butcher shop.

When we are done that I go into town and watch the workers set up the stage for the reaping. I buy some stuff from the market and hurry home. Elm and I race around the yard, trying to pretend that today is any day but today. Then we get tired and sit down, awkwardly having no idea what to say to each other, after all it's not like we can promise that one of us won't get picked. Then Elm breaks the silence,

"We probably won't get picked, we don't have any tesserae."

"Yeah. Most likely not, but there is still a chance." I say, wishing it weren't true.

He sighs, "I wonder what it would be like if there were no games, I can't remember it at all."

"Me neither, but I'm glad that I don't know because I would be pinning for it and as it is, this is all I know."

"Your right," He stands up, "I got to go, mum wants me to watch the shop."

"See you at the reaping." I say, getting up as well.

After that I wander district twelve, wishing that I was in district one or two or even four, where there are usually volunteers. Then I remind myself that that was what the pair of tributes last year thought and now they're both dead.

I walk past the mines, shivering as I do, I hate the mines. My mother died in an accident when I was young, and I have been scared of them ever since. When she died I moved in with my only living relatives, my cousins and aunt. As for my father, he died before I was born, I don't know how. I hurry on, rushing past the mines, scuffing my shoes and making myself even grimier with coal dust.

"Winter! Hey Winter, over here!" Jez, who is a girl from the seam, shouts.

I walk over to her, "hi Jez," I say, "What's up?"

"I can't believe it's the reaping already, it seems so soon," she says, "It feels like the last games were yesterday."

I nod in agreement and we chat about this and that for a while, trying to keep our minds off the fact that one of us could be gone forever in just a few hours.

"Oh my god, it's getting late," Jez says, "I've got to go get ready for the reaping."

"Same," I say, "Bye."

I head back to the house and begin to change before I realize I have no idea what I even have to wear. I dig through the small closet I share with Birch, searching for something suitable to wear to the reaping. I throw aside almost all the usual clothes in the closet before, after sometime; I find a delicate white lace dress that falls to my knees. I brush my pale blonde hair so that it falls to my mid back. Even so, it is still a bit tangled. Then I put a small amount of shimmery lip gloss and slip on a pair of plain shoes. After I am dressed, I walk with Elm and Birch to the reaping.

We hurry through town, hoping that we won't be late. Luckily, we make it with time to spare. I get into line, waiting for what seems like forever for the person in front of me to move. When I reach the front, I stretch out my hand, holding back a wince as the person in white pricks my finger. The blood smears onto the paper and they point me to a section of girls.

Then the mayor, Ashton Demen, steps forward, the look behind his glasses in his bright blue eyes is sad. "Welcome, Ladies and gentlemen to the thirteenth annual reaping of district twelve," he pauses, it appears to be to blink back tears, "This shall be remembered as a special day where two brave people shall go to the capitol and fight their way through death. When they are gone it is for us to grieve our loss and be reminded of the terrible event that happened thirteen years ago."

While he slowly and carefully reads the treaty of treason, I think of the mayor. He's a bit overweight and he is very young, only ten years older than me. Although he is the wealthiest person in the district, he knows poverty. When he was about four, his father abandoned him on the streets, but he was adopted by the last mayor. I suppose it is because of it that he is so kind.

I am snapped from my thoughts when he says, "And now I would like you to meet our escort, Zylvia DiMarco. Still after all these years she stays true to our district. We thank her for guiding all our tributes."

Zylvia walks up, her fifty- something years showing in her limp and scary, devilish red eyes hardly blinking, says in her capitol accent, "So as you all know we are here to pick one young man and woman that will have the honor to be part of The Hunger Games, but before we pick our tributes I would like to introduce our new mentor. Due to last year's event The Capitol has decided to change our mentor. So please give a big applause to Zycriss Lenrich."

Zycriss waves and sits next to the mayor.

Then Zylvia, seeming impatient, says, "So that is our lovely mentor. And now let's pick our female tribute." She walks to the bowl and after what feels like ages; pulls out a strip of paper, I can feel Jez's hand gripping my arm, and Birch hyperventilating. "Winter Spry!"

Damn.

All sound seems to leave the room and then it comes back with renewed force, all the relieved sighs, and Jez collapsing on the ground, and then my name was echoing again and again and then the peacekeepers were starting toward me and I snap out of it. As if in slow motion, I see Birch take a deep breath and step forward, her arm beginning to lift to make the gesture that will have her die instead of me. Her wide blue eyes are filled with a combination of terror and determination. I shove my hand up, pushing down her arm and grin, running up to the stage. All I can think is I'm going to die, I'm in the games, and this is fake… I'm scared. But the world doesn't stop, of course they continue, because they don't care.

Then Zylvia speaks again, "And now for our male tribute" she sticks her hand in and selects a slip, "Damian Knight"

A very scared looking boy begins to walk to the stage.

Just as Damian reaches the stage, a guy from the eighteen year old boys section raises his hand. Then he says in a low, monotone voice, "I volunteer."

"Oh, wow. A volunteer. This is something I have never seen before." Says Zylvia.

The thin boy has tangled black hair of different lengths in different parts and dark, dull blue-grey eyes. His tanned skin is covered with bruises and scratches.

He walks up to the stage and, in an emotionless voice, says his name, "Aamon Trace."

Then we shake, his grip is hard and he avoids my gaze. Doesn't seem like he'll be interested in an alliance.

Then the reaping is over and I am taken to the justice building and I sit there and while I wait for my visitors, I think of what it will be like. I hope it's not a water based arena. Please don't be water based. I am scared to death of water, it terrifies me.

Then the door opens and peacekeepers push my family in.

We all hug, my tears wetting their shoulders and their tears soaking mine.

"Oh, Winter, what did we do to deserve this? I never did anything to the capitol, I always agreed the games were fair," Aunt Elle says, her face covered with tear streaks and her eyes full of pain, "You can't die."

Then Birch and Elm pull away, Birch unable to speak, she's crying so hard and Elm's eyes filled with tears and his face pale. Elm finally speaks, "Winter, please take this as your token," He hands me a small silver ring with the words Omnia aura non fulgent, "It means all that is gold does not glitter."

I slip it on my finger and brush more tears from my clear grey eyes.

We hug again and then they are taken out by the peacekeepers, Aunt Elle screaming terrible things about the capitol. One of the peacekeepers fires a warning shot, and I hope she'll be okay.

Then Jez comes in crying and hurries over to me.

"I should have volunteered," she sobs, "They're going to slaughter you! The careers will torture you…Unless," she pauses, looking as though what she is about to say is an entirely new idea, "Unless, you win. Winter, you have to win."

I sigh and hold back tears, "Jez, I might not be able to win. But I won't be a bloodbath, I won't.

"Winter, don't worry, I know you can win." She says, wiping her tears, "Goodbye Winter, see you when you come back."

The peacekeepers make her leave and I watch as they lead her out.

After she leaves it hits me. I am a tribute in the thirteenth annual hunger games. People in the capitol are going to cheer when I die. I have a one out of twenty four chance of surviving; I am most likely going to die. Like all district twelve tributes, I will never have a chance.


	14. Promises Made

**A/N- **So I'd like to first say that you're all probably wondering why I have updated twice on the same day. Well that's true for some people, for me and my time zone I am actually updating on a different day xD

Anyway I am so excited to get the Capitol chapters started, not every author has their's in so please submit asap.

Another thing is that this chapter was originally hiilikepie's but I haven't heard from her in nearly a month so I passed the chapter over to another brilliant author. d11olive-13 who is so kind to do this, she also wrote two of the reapings, she's a very hard worker and I just wanna say thank you to her.

Anyway let's kick this whole thing off with the train rides part one. Enjoy! :D

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**d11olive-13 A/N- **Hi guys I would just like to say that the beginning of this chapter (paragraphs 1-2) were NOT written by me, they were created by hiilikepie who is the official owner of James :D Sorry if this contains a lot about my own tribute but it's hard to ignore her when she's literally RIGHT THERE!

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**Train Rides Part One**

**James Templesworth, District Three Male**

_**Written by d11olive-13, submitted by hiilikepie1937462**_

* * *

No. No. No. This isn't happening. One minute I have a long lost sister the next… No! I'll think positive. The idiotic Peacekeeper probably missed, and then there is the matter of my parents. The nerve! They didn't even come to say goodbye when it's their fault I was reaped! My life for 16 years consisted of nothing. Nothing but waiting for the reaping, so I could take out more tesserae.

"James, Sweetheart you know how bad we are doing financially so I took tesserae out in your name." Ever since the triplets were born it seems like that's all I heard. They try to 'talk' to me but I tune them out. What's the point of listening to someone who is supposed to protect you? If they don't even care about you enough to ever say anything with feeling. I never heard 'I love you James'. They didn't even take care of the triplets. They could have died for all they care! Training became my life. I couldn't do anything else. No friends. No games. Nobody liked me either, I'm the weird kid, the outcast, not a person, just there.

I walk to the closet of my new room and pull out a pair of black trousers and a soft, long sleeve shirt the color of metal. For some reason after seeing Ciarra, being female just doesn't appeal to me anymore.

This train really is quite spectacular, the entire thing travels at two hundred miles per hour and is furnished with the finest furniture I have ever laid eyes on. My own house back in District Three was not exactly impressive but it was livable, this train however, my mind can't even formulate the words to describe its lavish design. I have my own private room with an attached bathroom and the entire thing seems to have the theme of the color gold. The bed frame, lamp, side table, picture frames, and almost everything else displayed in this room was colored gold, it was actually pretty tasteful despite what it may sound like.

I had already had a rinse in the over-sized shower that occupies most of the space in my bathroom and that had pretty much consisted of me jumping around naked trying to avoid being attacked with soap and perfume. In the end I ended up coming out with my hair spiked atop my head and my body smelling like some sort of flower. Yeah, needless to say I am not exactly thrilled with my experience thus far.

Once I am dressed I sink into the fabric of my bedcover and I feel instantly soothed, I press my face into the silk pillowcase and allow myself to enjoy the calmness that has set over me. I feel myself drifting off when a firm knock on my door startles me causing me to fly off my bed and land hard on the floor beside the bed. I groan and massage my shoulder where I hit the floor as I watch M'Shell walk in and give me an annoyed glance.

"Dinner has been ready for five minutes, you are very late!" She definitely does not seem happy and I can't help but smile, at least if I'm miserable than she can be too. I pick myself up off the floor and walk leisurely towards the dining cart where M'Shell has already sat back down beside our mentor Matilda and my district partner Neon. Matilda has long brown hair that is tied into a low ponytail and very pale skin like most people in our district. I was only seven years old during her Games so I don't know very much about her, other than she doesn't appear to be as crazy as some of the other district's mentors.

Neon looks so tiny seated next to M'Shell who wears an angled green dress with a large daisy on her right shoulder. Her face is coated in makeup, from the ridiculous blue eye shadow to the silver stained lips, oh and it appears as though she has changed her eyelashes as well for they are now a crimson color and stretch to be about three inches long. Neon on the other hand is wearing a thin strapped grey dress and her light hair is left down to fall around her face. Her face is pale but her eyes are rimmed with red, a sure sign that she had recently been crying.

I take my seat in between Matilda and Neon and start piling food onto the plate set in front of me. Everyone else is already eating quietly and so far I have not seen Neon's eyes leave her plate, I try to give her a warm smile but she doesn't see it, or if she does she ignores it. I turn back to my own meal and shove a spoonful of some kind of meat doused in cream sauce into my mouth, my taste buds savor the rich flavor and I continue to shove spoonful after spoonful into my ready mouth. Once I have finished my portion I hurry to unload another onto my now empty plate, as I look up I find all three of the others staring at me, M'Shell with disgrace, Matilda with discontent, and Neon with something I cannot describe.

"What?" I ask, the room is silent and I can't imagine what I had done wrong already.

"I would think that coming from a higher district you would have better table manners, I guess I was wrong," M'Shell says in her annoying Capital accent. Wait, so this is about me eating wrong? How am I supposed to eat then?

"Like this," a tiny whisper comes from my right side and it is so quiet that I am sure I was the only one to hear. I look over to see Neon holding her utensils in her small hands with her elbows tightly bound to her sides, I correct my own position to mimic hers and follow her movements as she starts to nibble on some sort of pasta. This new way of eating is both uncomfortable and inefficient and before the end of my meal I have gone back to shoving spoonfuls of food into my mouth with my elbows set on the table beside my plate.

Once dinner has ended we are taken into another car so that we can watch the other districts' Reapings, Matilda warns us to pay attention because to do well we have to know our opponents like we know our own families. Honestly though why do I need to get to know the people who I'm competing against? What are some of them immune to knives? Unable to be caught in traps? It seems to me that the only thing I really need to know is how to find some rope and watching the other tributes will not help me much in that area.

The first district has two volunteers, an eighteen year old girl with tan skin, curly hair and an arrogant smile and a tall boy with pale skin and shaggy hair whose long winded speech is thankfully cut off by their escort. District Two gets two more volunteers, a girl with red hair and dark eyes named Kaya and a muscled boy with blonde hair named Talon.

When I see District Three I am satisfied when I see myself cut the Peacekeeper's hand, when the other tribute's see this they will know I am experienced with knives and have no problem inflicting pain. I am also pleased that the look on my face appears confident and not scared in the least. When M'Shell calls up Neon I am surprised to see that the cameras have made her look even tinier, a close up of her face reveals that silent tears have begin to run down her face as she climbs the stairs with a lost look on her face. I turn towards the chair she is seated on by herself and see she is hugging her knees to her chest and watching the screen intently with her big, pale eyes.

When I turn back to the screen I see that District Five is already being played, a blonde haired girl and a pale boy with red hair are reaped but I don't catch their names. District Six, and Seven go by rather uneventfully, well unless you count the monkey-faced girl from Seven who is chosen named An-Wei. I can tell you that she will have a tough time gaining sponsors but she looks fairly strong for her age. I have to say I was quite surprised when the boy from District Eight was named, a tall boy who looked fairly cheerful given his dreary situation.

In District Nine a girl is called with no last name and you can see the confusion even within the district citizens, she appears to be fairly tough and strides out of the eighteen year old section even though she couldn't possibly be that old. Her district partner is not very memorable and the only thing I can remember about him is his name, Derak. District Ten proves uneventful as well, a pair are reaped who look none too pleased about it.

Finally District Eleven is featured and I can't help but be grateful that it is the second last district, these recaps are quite lengthy and my butt has gone numb from sitting here so long. The boy that is called is the only tribute so far that looks even close to Neon's size and age, he has red hair and freckles and I have to laugh when he turns and punches his escort square in the face. I feel a surge of nervousness for my district partner, she is tiny and looks so very fragile, even this boy looks to be larger and stronger than her despite being a year younger. How can she survive in the Games with people twice her size fighting to murder her?

When the recaps have ended I turn back to Matilda to see what she is going to tell us next. She is frozen in place with her eyes fixated on the now black screen, her body shakes and for a moment I believe she is going to faint right here. M'Shell clears her throat and that seems to snap Matilda out of her daze enough to allow her to stand.

"Just go get some rest," that is all we hear mumbled under her breath as she exits the room, leaving the rest of us stunned and unsure what to do next. M'Shell is the first to her feet.

"Well you heard her, to bed both of you! Tomorrow will be an exciting day!" Before she ends her sentence her voice has returned to its usual enthusiastic squeal and I fight the urge to cover my ears. Once our escort has left Neon rises and scurries out of the room towards her bedroom. I am left by myself and before long I too am on my way to bed.

After a few wrong turns I finally reach my room and collapse on my bed, I really shouldn't be able to sleep with everything that is going through my mind right now but I find myself unable to resist as my eyes flutter into darkness.

I am suddenly awoken by a loud thump and I sit up quickly on my bed, the lights are still on in my room and I look around nervously only to find everything just as it was when I first entered the room. I creep into my bathroom and look around slowly as the lights move the room back into brightness. Nothing here seems out of place but I am sure I heard a noise and now that I'm up I am going to find out what it was. The hallway brightens as soon as I have stepped foot past my doorway and I walk slowly through the corridor. I stop at another door when I hear soft crying within the room, the sniffles and sobs are so quiet and delicate that there is only one person I know it could be. I knock quietly on the door and the muffled cries stop altogether.

"Neon, is that you?"

I am met with silence as an answer so I begin to knock again. When I am just about to give up and walk back to the comfort of my room I hear a whoosh as the door slides up to reveal my young district partner standing behind it wearing a silver shirt and a pair of white shorts, her hair is slightly ruffled and her fair face is streaked with red tear stains.

"Neon are you alright?"

A simple nod is all the answer I get but I can see that the young girl is anything but alright. She walks back over to her bed and looks back quickly to see if I am following her, I take this as an invitation and sit carefully on the edge of her bed.

"I was having nightmares, o-of the a-arena," her voice is so soft I wonder if it was just a product of my tired mind. This makes sense though, that she would be having nightmares, she is only thirteen and she likely believes that she will be dead within days. How cruel can the Capital be, to haunt the dreams of such an innocent mind and then slaughter her days later. It's just sick.

"Well it's okay, we aren't in the arena we're on a train," this is the best I can do to comfort her, she isn't stupid and I can't lie to her and tell her that her nightmare will not be true soon. The best I can do is try and get her mind off this game entirely.

"What's this?" I ask as I point to a thin silver rectangle that appears to be some sort of box.

"My token, it's a music box."

"How does it work?"

"Well it's supposed to have a key and you turn it in here," she explains as she points to a keyhole that sits on the top of the box, it is lined with golden material that contrasts greatly with the silver and blue decoration of the box, "I lost the key though, when I was younger."

An idea pops into my head and I pull my own token out of my pocket, a golden key. Neon's eyes widen and for the first time I think I see the beginnings of a smile on her face as I insert the key into the keyhole, a perfect fit.

"Wow," her voice is filled with wonder as a soft tune starts to play from within the box. The notes seem to chime off the interior of the room and my entire body feels relaxed immediately, smiles play on both our faces as the melody fills the quiet room.

Neon lies down on her pillow and clutches the music box tightly in her little hands. When I begin to leave she removes the gold key from the music box and holds it out to me. I shake my head and guide her hand to replace the key into the box and the calming tune fills the room once again.

The last thing I hear as I exit the room is a barely audible thanks just before the door shuts behind me and I am left out in the hallway once again. As I make my way back to the haunting silence of my own room I make a promise, I will get that girl out alive.


	15. Determined

**A/N- **Hey everyone, here's the next Capitol chapter for you all. I hope you like it and as always please leave your reviews :D

The next update may take a while because I haven't actually recevied the next chapter, but rest assured I will update as soon as I get it :)

Enjoy!

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**Katnissfire87654 A/N-** So Jade is back again! I hope everyone will like her better this time around, I tried hard on this. So, without further ado, here is the District 6 Train Rides!

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**Train Rides Part Two**

**Jade Reranem, District Six Female**

_**Katnissfire87654**_

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This cannot be happening. This is unreal. I was not just Reaped for the Thirteenth Annual Hunger Games. I'm not superstitious or anything, but the number thirteen has a reputation as being the most unlucky number. And I'm sure that the Gamemakers will have picked up on this fact. Clearly it will be the worst Hunger Games to be in.

Dale and I follow Snowdrop to the train station where a large, gleaming steel train waits there for us. I run my hands over the warm metal, in disbelief how something this wonderful could be made by my District. I smile, but the expression quickly vanishes from my face as I remember how Mari and my father died working on one of these trains.

I jerk my hand back and stiffly walk towards the entrance to the train. "Jade!" Dale calls after me. I spin around to look at him.

"What?" I ask.

"Good luck." He merely replies.

_What a strange boy,_ I think as I step onto the train. Sitting at a mahogany table is Snowdrop and a lady who looks menacing.

"Faux Steel." She says sharply, sticking out her hand for me to shake. I quickly shake her hand and pull away. This Faux lady, she has exaggerated bronze skin and her eyes are slits, very narrow and intense looking. She has long metallic sharp silver nails, and a metal stud in each of her cheeks. Her black hair, which is sleek and shiny, is pulled back into an unnaturally tight ponytail, forcing her thin eyebrows to move further up her face than they usually would do. I have no idea who this lady is.

"Sweethearts, this is your mentor." Snowdrop chirps, interrupting my thoughts. Our mentor?

"Sit." Faux growls, at me and Dale. I plop myself down in one of the red velvet chairs, Dale following suit. "Names." Faux says staring me down.

"Uh, J-Jade." I manage to stutter out. Faux turns her eyes onto Dale.

"Dale." He mutters, staring at the floor.

"Well, Jade and Dale, how do you feel about killing?" She spits out.

"It's inhumane and disgusting." Dale says, averting his eyes. Faux scoffs and turns to face me.

"And YOU?"

"Umm…uh, I don't like it?" I manage to get out. She gets herself up, moves over to me so that she's in my face and scrapes my chin with one of her long, sharp nails.

"If you think like that you won't make it past the Bloodbath. To win, you have to kill. It's an absolute must." She says quietly, her hot breath in my ear. She steps back and shows me a picture. It's a picture of last years' Hunger Games, the winner beating another tribute to death with a sword. The tribute's face is stuck in an expression of extreme pain, his body bleeding.

Faux picks up more and more pictures and shoves them in my face. "Now do you see?" She hisses. "You have to learn how to do this in order to win!" Her words drone on and on, but in front of my eyes, all I can see is myself getting beaten up, bloody, screaming. And then my vision goes black.

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When I open my eyes, I'm lying on the floor, faces above me. "Sweetie!" Snowdrop yells, bending over. Faux stands in the corner, smirking. Dale looks like he's about to barf. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Snowdrop asks, her carefully painted face scrunching up.

"You passed out for a few minutes there." Dale says, coming over.

"Get her water!" Snowdrop screeches at an Avox standing in the corner.

"Guys, guys, I'm okay." I say, waving them out of my face. The second I stand up, I feel really wobbly so Snowdrop grabs my arm and ushers me to my room. She shuts the door behind her and I lay on the soft bed, staring at the ceiling.

_Maybe Faux is right. Maybe I do need to learn how to kill. If I do want to get home to Sam and my mother, I HAVE to learn. I have to learn EVERYTHING._

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I stand up and although I feel a little bit wobbly still, I can stay on my own two feet without collapsing. I hold onto the door and walk out to find Faux, Snowdrop, and Dale. I find them sitting in almost the exact same spot as they were when I had last saw them. Dale is looking a bit queasy as Faux talks to him about killing.

"Jade!" Snowdrop chirps, rushing over in tall pink heels. She yanks me down into a chair and starts patting my face.

"Stop it!" I yell, pushing her away. She steps back, or rather, stumbles back, and heads off to the corner to check on the food.

"So Jade," Faux growls. "What are you going to do?" I take a deep breath.

"I'm going to listen to everything you say and hopefully you can help me win." I say, straightening up. She looks satisfied and turns to Dale.

"And you?" Faux asks him. He just shakes his head.

"I'll never kill anything or anyone." Dale replies defiantly.

"Well then, here's a news flash honey, you _won't_ win." Faux says, getting up in his face.

"Food!" Snowdrop calls from the corner in her annoyingly high voice. Faux starts to run over to the table, but I leap on her, pinning her to the ground. She stands up, looking surprised that a 14 year old girl like me would be able to do that. Dale looks at me weirdly, and takes a seat at the table.

A group of Avoxes bring heaping plates of food out. Platters of meat, of fruit, bowls of colourful soups, the list goes on and on. I pile my plate with food, as does Dale and Faux, and we start to eat. Snowdrop, however, has a single strawberry on her plate.

"I'm on a diet." She merely says when Faux gives her a strange look. When Dale and I finish, Snowdrop motions for us to follow her. She leads us to a room with a screen and a few chairs. She turns on the screen and pats the chairs, telling us to sit down.

I know what is happening as soon as the Capitol seal appears on the screen. It's the Reaping recaps. The screen cuts to the square of District One. A girl named Silver Hartford steps up to volunteer, followed by a male volunteer, Zeo Radonix. These tributes look awfully menacing, I doubt I'll be able to take them.

On to District Two. A girl by the name of Kaya Andora volunteers, jumping onto the back of another girl so that she could get there first. Talon Lockhearst, the male tribute, was reaped but I knew that he would be just as dangerous as any volunteer who could have taken his place as walked up to the stage with a grin on his face, pushing aside anyone who wanted to volunteer. Typical Careers so far and to be honest, I'm getting a bit scared.

District Three reaps Neon Edison and James Templesworth. The girl, Neon, has a blank look on her face as she silently walks up to the stage, but I can see a tear trickling down her cheek. She looks so small and if I saw her on the street, I wouldn't have pegged her to be any older than ten. A Peacekeeper picks James up after his name is called, but James stabs the Peacekeeper in the hand and dashes up to the stage. Strange kid.

District Four has two volunteers, which is the norm for Career districts. Their names are Oceava Lac and Azura-Jay Dennis. Oceava fought her way up to the stage, whereas Azura-Jay just ran instead of joining the fight. I can't help but notice that Azura-Jay wears a cloth around his eyes. That may give him quite the disadvantage in the Games.

Time for District Five. A small girl, who looks no older than fourteen, Alyssa Wright, is called. She is joined on stage by Zedock Conduit, the male tribute.

I swallow hard as I see the camera cut to my District, District Six. My name is called, and I see myself walk up to the stage nervously, my hair and dress sopping wet. That's when I realize that I'm still wearing my Reaping clothes. Oh well, I'll change after the recaps. Dale is now awkwardly walking up the steps to the stage when I look back at the screen.

In District 7, Fir… _CRACK_. The screen goes black. "The power went out!" Snowdrop screams, and sure enough, all the lights are out in the train. An Avox hands us each a small light, and I carry it back to my room. As I walk out, I can hear Snowdrop's loud screeches.

I'm so tired, that I just lay down on the bed, not even bothering to change and fall asleep almost instantly. The next morning, I awake to bright rays of sunlight shining through my window and a bird tweeting obnoxiously. I pull myself out of bed and walk over to the huge closet on the other side of the spacious room.

I rummage through all of the clothes until I find a pair of jeans and a sparkly flowing white top. I pull them out and put them on hastily. Brushing my hair on the edge of the bed, I hear Snowdrop's high-pitched voice next door in Dale's room. From what I can hear, she's yelling at him to get his butt out of bed. I pull my hair back into a ponytail so my hair is out of my face, slip on some sandals, and walk out the door…straight into Faux.

"Watch where you're going." I mumble as I push past, into the dining room. I look out the huge glass window and see beautiful waterfalls. As those blur out of view, something even more spectacular comes into sight. The Capitol. We pass gleaming white buildings and crowds of colorful people, before the train stops. Snowdrop herds Dale and I out, and I step off the train, onto Capitol ground.

_"This is where I'm going to be preparing to die."_ I think, as the crowd cheers for us. _"I'm going to die."_ The full force of what I am here for hits me, and I struggle to keep tears back. Thinking like this will not help me get back to Sam. I need to get back to my brother.


	16. Hiding the Truth

**A/N- **Wow it's been a while. I am so sorry for this long wait, it isn't my fault. There has been complications with chapters and authors as you'll find out. Some authors have been unable to write their chapters and I've had to find other authors to do it. There will only be 22 chapters for the Capitol, Maia and Tommy will not have a chapter for various reasons.

But anyway thanks for being so patient. Means a lot. You all know the amazing d11olive-13, well she has done another chapter. TeamKatniss4Ever was unable to write this chapter, so Olive wrote this all in one night. She's incredible.

Anyway hope you enjoy this chapter, hopefully the next one will be here shortly.

(Sorry Olive if the title of the chapter is incorrect, it's just what you said didn't make sense so I changed one word)

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**d11olive-13 A/N- **Hi guys! Unfortunately TK was unable to write this chapter for you guys so I am happy to bring you another chapter! This was completed in under two hours so please, be gentle in the reviews!

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**Preparation for the Chariot Rides**

**Fir Hertwig, District Seven Male**

_**Written by d11olive-13, submitted by TeamKatniss4Ever**_

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This has been the most exhausting morning of my life.

I was awoken very early in the morning and dragged from the warmth of my bed to eat breakfast. The food was great and most of it I have never been able to try before. All the color and tastes, so vivid and enhanced, I never thought food could taste that good. An-wei however seemed unimpressed with the array of foods set out before us, she sifted pieces around her plate and I saw her eat only a few slices of some kind of bread. Not to say I was paying much attention to what my district partner was doing, my attention rarely wavered from the stocked plate in front of me.

I hadn't bothered to get dressed, knowing full well that whatever I did to make myself look presentable would be readily undone. While An-wei and our mentor and escort retreated to their rooms I remained and continued to stuff myself with the rich tastes I had never known could exist. When the company wasn't around I could finally relax. Earlier on I had decided to use my acting skills I had learned within my district to win over any potential allies. Killing them in a matter of hours most likely, unless they proved to be useful to me. Even with An-wei, Paris and Park I kept a relatively friendly exterior, though not to friendly. Complicated work if you ask me.

Park was the first one to come back into the main dining room, by then I had finished what likely was my sixth or seventh plate of food. I can see nothing wrong with putting on more weight between now and the launch. He gave me a questionable look before coming to sit next to me.

"Do what is asked of you."

I had looked quickly over to Park but he was staring off in that way that makes you sure he is thinking about other matters, his mind as far away from Panem as possible.

What can he possible mean, haven't I already shown that I will comply with most instructions? He must mean with the stylists, that is what will be doing today after all. I had pondered this for a long while, so long in fact that I hadn't noticed when An-wei walked in, dressed plainly but with sophistication. I didn't even notice our flamboyant escort as he struts in, curly hair ablaze and flashing a smile, mouth full of red, ruby encrusted teeth.

Paris had taken both An-wei and I down to the basement of the Training Centre, shoving us each into a room before taking off back towards the elevator.

So that's where I am now, facing three of the most oddly dressed humans I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. The one closest to me is a male wearing a sequined pink blazer over a pair of neon green, tight pants. His hair is long and deep purple in color, he has bangs that are spiked atop his oval, pale face that are tipped with silver. He wears feathers over his eyes, in the place where any normal person would keep eyelashes and his skin is sparkling under the harsh lights of the small room.

Behind the man stand two girls, one short and thin with the body of a young child and the other tall and wirey. The shorter one wears a pair of tight shorts the color of a day sky with a white shirt that's sleeves end in swirls of fabric. Her hair reaches past her waist and is a brown color with streaks of red and green weaved into the strands. Her eyes are a piercing red and her pale face is caked with powders.

The other girl wears a flimsy dress that is all angles. Colors of all kinds, some of which I recognize and some of which I have never seen before emit off the dress like rays of light, giving her skin a haunting glow of different hues. Her eyes are like a kaleidoscope and are framed by two thin blue lines that take the place of her eyebrows.

Unconsciously I take a step back and hit my back against the sturdy metal door, it doesn't hurt but it is enough to snap me out of the shocked daze I was in. The male steps towards me and a phony grin occupies his painted lips, he introduces himself as Julius. The short female shakes my hand shakily and tells me her name is Traxia and the last member of the group reaches down to giddily grab my hand, repeating that her name is Horacia.

"We are so excited to have gotten a good tribute this year!" Horacia squeals, "last year I was stuck on District Eight, the boy I prepped was the first casualty of the Games, how embarrassing!"

She takes me by the hand and leads me to a metal table with a light on the underside, she helps me out of my slept in clothes and a few minutes later I am lying down on the table, stark naked and teeth chattering. Like a well oiled machine the trio begin their work on me, Julius rinses my body with a silver hose that spits out water while Horacia begins to comb my hair and Traxia tentatively handles my fingernails. I float in and out of consciousness as the group squeals and chatters around me, some of which I know is about me and some of which I really couldn't tell you what they are talking about.

A sharp tug of pain on my chest convulses my body and I have to clench my jaw to keep from letting out a string of curses. When I peer over I see Julius holding a sheet of what looks like white paper, attached are thousands of short brown hairs, my hairs. I don't see what exactly is so necessary about ripping out my chest hair but I do not let my thoughts be heard. These people know how to appeal to an audience who dresses and talks like them, I have to trust that they will make me into what the Capitol expects.

After a few hours of ripping and pulling I begin to feel utterly vulnerable, as if the hairs that had been ripped away were an outer barrier protecting me from the world. Now that they are gone I feel uncomfortable, like I just want to jump off this table, pull on my clothes and run out the door. I keep myself planted on the table as more water is run over my body, as more sweet smelling lotions are brushed into my hair, as more snips are made at the nails of my hands and feet. I take it all in silence because I know that I have to.

This torture is not a choice for me, now that I am here I have to play by their rules. At least until I get into the arena, where there are no rules.

When finally my prep team is satisfied with the way they have prepared me they leave me and I scramble to my feet and pull on a robe that hangs by the door. No doubt when my stylist arrives I will be told to remove it but for now it feels better to be covered. I sit in silence for what could be hours but is more than likely just a few minutes. No matter, it gives me time to relax, when I'm alone I don't have to act like I care about the babbles and the chatter, I can just relax and be me.

A man enters the room with a warm smile on his face, not something I am used to seeing. Back in my district and even here, all I have ever really known are the forced smiles and the unhappy smiles, this is neither.

"Congratulations," he says and places a warm hand on my shoulder, "I am Granon and I will be your stylist."

Granon is dressed in a navy short sleeve dress shirt and a pair of silver pants, he is bald and the only thing startling about him are his eyes, they are a dazzling green color unlike any green I have encountered. In District Seven we have the dark forest greens and the fresh green of newly grown leaves, his eyes however are different. The green looks fake, manmade and not real, I force myself to look away and my eyes return to the floor. I don't like the look of his eyes, they remind me too much of how these people live, in richness and greed while the rest of us starve. Never have I ever had enough money to afford a physical alteration and yet to these people it is a social must have. It just doesn't seem fair.

"Would you care to see your costume Fir, I designed it myself."

I nod without letting my eyes fall into his eyes again, they make me think horrible thoughts that could get me arrested. I need to concentrate on why I'm here, to win. Then my life will never again be unfair, I will live in wealth like these people, have everything I could ever need and more. I would be famous and never have to work with people in the lumberyard again, no one would steal my desires because no one could afford to.

From behind him I watch him pull out a black bag with a hanger attached. He lays it across the table where I had laid for most of the day and unzips the thick zipper that runs the length of the bag. First he pulls out a green shirt that looks to be covered in leaves, he gently pulls the fabric over my head and when I look in the mirror it appears that I am being strangled with the vines. Next I am helped into a brown pair of pants that give off the impression of bark and finally a cap that is patterned with more green leaves. Finally when I am dressed I look into the mirror.

Panem help me if this is how I will be remembered.


	17. Uncertain

**A/N- **Okay, soooooo sorry that there hasn't been an update. There has still been problems with chapters, and sadly I had to give Irisismyname's chapter to someone else because it was taking too long. And that someone is... the fantastic d11olive-13, seriously this girl is awesome. She's always there to take extra chapters and she deserves a big round of applause *claps*... yeah so now that's out of my system, hope you enjoy this chapter, most of the other Capitol chapters have been sent to me so hopefully updates will move swiftly now :D

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**d11olive-13 A/N- **Hey guys! Guess who!? It's me Olive xD! Again I have gotten the chance to write for another amazing character and once again she is very different from my own tribute. I hope Iris if you see this that you are alright with the way I have written her :D

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**Chariot Rides**

**An-Wei Lian, District Seven Female**

_**Written by d11olive-13, submitted by Irisismyname**_

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This is probably the stupidest thing I have ever been forced to participate in.

Is it not bad enough that we are being trained to kill each other, but first we must prance around the Capitol in stupid "district-oriented" costumes in front of all of Panem. It's the Capitol's sick way of introducing us as people to be looked at and admired, then brought together to be slaughtered like pigs. What doesn't make sense to me is why we have to constantly be reminded of the Rebellion, I was just two years old then and now that I have grown up I am being punished for something I didn't do. It just doesn't seem fair that a child of such important, non-rebellious figures should be Reaped. Why not punish the rebels directly instead? That would be much more effective.

District Seven has had the same idea behind their ridiculous costumes in every Tribute Parade that I can remember, and this year is no exception. I am outfitted in a tight green dress that is wrapped in vines and realistic looking plastic leaves. On my feet are tall, heeled boots that are brown and carry with them the look and texture of tree bark. When I meet up with Fir beside our chariot I see he is wearing a similar ensemble, bark pants and a leaf shirt. Placed delicately on his head is a cap that has the same design as his shirt and my dress. I am almost envious, my hair is placed in two ponytails with twigs to make the black strands stick out. Honestly I would rather be wearing a hat.

I scrunch my nose once again and resist the urge to scratch my face. I have been plastered with so much makeup that when I look in the mirror I almost look attractive, but if being attractive means not being able to move my facial muscles than I would much rather stay ugly.

Most of the other tributes have already arrived by now and I decide to take this opportunity to really get a good look at my competition. My eyes move to the first chariot in the strange lineup, District One. The male is wearing a pair of tight-fitted white shorts and the female wears a tight stripe of white fabric across her breasts as well as a similar pair of skimpy shorts. The rest of their bodies are coated in a dust that makes their skin shimmer with different jewel tones. I roll my eyes at the ridiculous outfits, it's like their stylists wanted to portray them as total airheads. I am sure they will both live up to this impression though.

My eyes wander to the second chariot, where a girl wearing a short silver dress is being helped in. Her shoes are a pair of incredibly high and thin silver heels that match the tone of her dress. When I look closer I can see that the bottom of the skirt is decorated with long knives, obviously dulled since we are not allowed weapons before the start of the Games. In her hair are a pair of twin blades that protrude from either side of her tight bun, if she's supposed to look frightening then I am shaking in my boots. She sure is making it difficult to be afraid of her, a wobbling girl in heels and a tight dress doesn't exactly spell fear.

My eyes flit around until they land on the District Eight chariot, the girl and boy are a mess of colors but yet they both still maintain pleasant smiles. The boy wears a mismatched jacket and pants combo with a patchwork tie and white undershirt. On his head is a circle of pink plastic that joins with a long train of similar design to the rest of his outfit. In short he looks like a right idiot. Beside him his district partner wears a patchwork dress with puffed out sleeves and knee high pink boots. Her near-white hair is pulled into many ponytails, twists and braids and tied with bows of all colors and sizes.

I guess my costume isn't so bad after all.

My stylist Ophelia grabs my hand to help me into the chariot alongside Fir but I snatch my hand away and jump in myself. I don't need anyone's help.

We are told just to stand there until the parade starts and not to touch our outfits because we might wrinkle the leaves. I may be mistaken but I think leaves are supposed to be wrinkled. I roll my eyes once Ophelia looks away but keep my hands at my sides.

A commotion can be heard a few chariots behind me, when I turn to see what is happening I see the District Nine girl standing with her arms crossed glaring at a frustrated looking man with rows of tattoos covering his face. He throws his hands up in anger and walks to the other side of the chariot to speak with his colleague, a fair haired woman with bright pink eyes. The girl rolls her eyes and jumps into her chariot.

She wiggles uncomfortably in her draped white dress and when she notices me staring she sends a harsh scowl my way. I turn back around to see that the Tribute Parade has already started, with the sixth chariot now rolling out to meet the cheering crowds. Fir gives a smile to me but my blood feels suddenly cold, it looks like any ordinary smile but I can tell that it is much more than that. I don't know what but I can tell this much already, there is something wrong with my district partner.

The chariot lurches forward and I firmly grasp the railing in front of me to keep from falling out of the thing altogether. Bright lights beam into my eyes as we enter the City Circle but I stare straight ahead the entire time. Cheers erupt like a wave of water as we pass the thick crowds and I even hear my name shouted a handful of times.

When I look up I see my image on one of the rectangular screens at the end of the long road. My face is an unreadable mask and I almost feel the urge to smile. I look indifferent, intimidating even, and more importantly I look like a contender. Yes, even in this horribly stupid costume I manage to look like a contender.

When our chariot stops beside the District Six chariot I finally get a good look at the pair. Both are dressed in all black, the female in a tight dress and the male in a fitted suit. That much looks alright and it is only when you look up to their heads that you realize the true idiocy of their stylists. In the place of a hat or an intricate hairstyle each tribute has a stack of three small tires teetering on their heads. I feel the need to shake my head at the pure stupidity of their outfits.

Once again I look up to the rectangular screen where my face was projected, now it is taken up by the image of the District Ten tributes. From what I can see, the girl wears a tattered red dress and a cape made from some type of animal skin around her neck. On her head a thick headband is placed with two protruding spikes that must mean to imitate the horns of an animal. She looks towards the sky with a dreamy look in her eyes and a stupid grin on her face, not once does she look into the crowd but rather beyond them.

The boy also wears a headband with spikes on it and an animal cape, though instead of a dress he wears a long sleeve dress shirt that is cut and torn at the sleeves. Red splotches coat his hands and parts of his neck, giving off the appearance of blood.

Yes that is exactly what you want to do, look like you are already dead before the Games even start. For their own sake they had better hope that none of the tributes decide to recreate these marks on them during the Games.

"Welcome," a strong voice echoes through the large City Circle, demanding immediate silence. It is the President who speaks, a fairly young looking woman with extremely long black hair and blood red lips. Her dark, reddish eyes stare down at us with a penetrating glare as she addresses us. "Tributes, welcome. We commemorate your courage and your sacrifice in the 13th Hunger Games."

As the President begins the formalities for the evening something catches my eye in the chariot in front of me and to the right. It is the District Three chariot and it's their costumes that catch my gaze. They are both wearing identical silver jumpsuits that leave only their necks and heads exposed. Pulsing blue and green wires run the length of their bodies to form the illusion of some sort of electronic device. The small girl's hair is pulled into a messy ponytail and the blonde strands stick straight up on the left side of her head as if she had just received a massive shock.

I find myself staring at their outfits for several seconds and just as I am about to avert my gaze back to the President who continues her speech the girl turns her head. My body flinches as it takes in the surprise of the girl's odd appearance, her pale eyes are outlined in a thick layer of green and she appears almost alien, we lock eyes for a moment before she breaks the gaze and turns away.

Still in slight shock I tune back in to what the President is telling us just as a pair of red-clothed Avoxes walk out, ceremoniously carrying what looks to be a glass Reaping bowl. My brows furrow as I begin to think of what this could possibly mean.

Surely they aren't choosing more tributes? We already have all twenty-four of us. Possibly this is some sort of twist for the Games but what could it mean?

"7," the President reads after reaching into the bowl and plucking a white slip. Why is she picking numbers? I have never seen this as being part of the mandatory viewing. Perhaps this is just never shown on television though.

"4," another number is read and still my mind reels with possibilities of what they could mean. It has to have something to do with the Games or else why would they be doing this in front of the tributes? Sharp pain enters my skull and I try to stop myself from over thinking this. If she is going to tell us what they mean than we will know, otherwise we will find out in a few days most likely. No amount of thinking will confirm any of my thoughts as being true.

"5," the third slip is chosen and then the glass bowl is taken away by the Avoxes. No explanation of the strange charade is given, not even a slight hint as to what they might mean. If I didn't know better I would believe I had dreamt the entire thing, though by the looks on the faces of the other tributes I can tell that the event did in fact occur.

"Once again tributes, we welcome you," Her crimson lips form a smile that sends shivers down my spine, "and may the odds be ever in your favour."


	18. Being Forgotten

**A/N-** Hello again everyone. I know I promised last chapter that updates would be often, but this time I mean it. I have nearly every other capitol chapter so I promise to update near to every day just because I haven't been updating that much at all. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter and I'm happy to say Thirteen is back on track! :D

So enjoy! xD

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**d11olive-13 A/N- **First off I would like to thank everyone for their reviews on District Three Reapings, they all brought a smile to my face. I am so happy that most of you have taken a liking to Neon, I love her as a tribute and I'm so glad you do too! Hopefully I didn't repeat any of my earlier mistakes :P

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**Training Day One**

**Neon Edison, District Three Female**

_**d11olive-13**_

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_Running through a dense forest, my feet pounding against the soft earth, I don't know what I am running from but I feel the strong need to keep going. I trip over a large root and when I look at my hands they are coated in blood. Turning around I can see him, the boy from District Two, with the smug smile he wore when he volunteered at the Reaping. My entire body is trembling but I feel as if I'm pinned to the ground, completely helpless as the older boy strides over to me and lifts his spear to deliver a blow that will end my life forever._

I wake up out of breath and covered in a thin layer of sweat, I pull the soft blanket up to my chin but I can still feel the bone-chilling cold that is leftover from my nightmare. Looking at the clock on the small table by my bed I can see that it is just barely six in the morning. I loosen my grip on the blankets and let my feet slide the long distance to the floor, the tiles are warm under my feet and I just stand there for a moment. Looking around the room once again I can't believe that someone like me could live here. It just seems so... regal. My eyes wander to the door where a simple black outfit that looks far too small to fit me is hung, attached to the front is a small note from my stylist telling me that this will be my training uniform.

Sighing, I remove the shirt and pants from the hanger and find that they are made of an incredibly soft material that stretches easily beneath my fingers. I place the uniform on my bed while I take off the thin, blue nightgown I had slept in. I slide into the shirt and pants and when I look in the mirror I see a figure who doesn't resemble myself. The outfit is simple enough, a tight black shirt with some details of silver and red around the sleeves and down the sides, formfitting pants of similar design, and my district number is sewn onto the cuff of my sleeves. The thing that looks foreign about me is the makeup, I had been too tired to even attempt to remove the thick layers of makeup that my stylist had applied to me. My pale blue eyes are lined with a thick layer of green and my face is covered in a powder that makes my face appear colorless.

Quickly I head into the private bathroom that is attached to my room and do my best to remove the makeup from my face. After a few minutes of intense scrubbing my face is red and blotchy but I have managed to remove most of the white powder. Unfortunately I am unable to fully remove the green from my eyes and when I look in the mirror I still don't look like me. I walk back into my room and pull on the heavy black shoes that sit by my door and take one final glance in the mirror before walking out into the dining room.

I am the first one to arrive but a nod from an Avox tells me that I can help myself. A huge array of foods, most of which I have never seen before, is laid out at the far edge of the room. I grab a plate and pile on a variety of pastries, fruits, and breads before sitting down at the large dining table. Sitting here alone doesn't feel all that different from being at home, I'm still eating by myself. By the time I have finished my plate James has joined me and when Matilda and M'Shell came in a few minutes after him they were surprised that we were already awake.

"Looks like some of us are very excited for training this morning! And don't you both look just adorable in your training outfits!" M'Shell rushes over and pinches my cheek with her long nails and I do my best to hide my discomfort. James looked at our escort and rolled his eyes with a smile plastered on his face, and I shoved a roll in my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"We made such an AMAZING impression last night, you two looked perfect! I finally visited the betting tables today to have a look at what everyone thinks of you, they love you both!" Silence follows this, I guess not even Matilda knows how to deal with M'Shell yet.

"What are our odds?" It's James' turn to speak this time. I had forgotten they placed odds on all the tributes, assessing them by their impressions and afterwards by their training and scores. The mood in the room feels tense and for once I can see that M'Shell looks genuinely uncomfortable. "I said, what are our odds?"

James is insistent and stares at our escort with blank eyes, I think I would be curious to know as well, if I wasn't so scared to know.

"Yesterday they had you at 25:1," M'Shell says as she unconsciously plays with the folds of her napkin, "but they haven't even seen what you can do yet!"

I can't tell whether James is satisfied or not as his gaze returns to his meal. The room remains quiet as everyone else turns back to their piled plates.

"What about mine?" My voice comes out just above a whisper though I know everyone has heard because their eyes find my face within seconds. Our escort and mentor look between them before finally Matilda breaks the silence.

"Neon, remember that these don't mean anything, anyone can win this and you have as good a chance as any," My heart feels as though it may burst out of my chest, I know by the way she is speaking that I really should not have asked, "you were given 60:1."

I tilt my chin down to stare at my black sneakers under the table, how could I have such low odds? My eyes begin to fill with moisture but I urge myself not to cry, I already appear weak enough as it is. The only sound in the air is the chime of utensils as they make contact with fine porcelain. I force the odds from my mind and when I finally feel the tears retreat back behind my eyes I allow myself to look up.

"Any advice you can give us, you know, about today?" James asks a question to break the somber silence. It's true that this is an important question, with our lives on the line I have to be as prepared as I can be. I have no idea what to expect when we get to the training room. Honestly I'm scared to meet the other tributes, all of whom are bigger than me and appear much stronger. I found out that I am older than only one tribute this year, the twelve year old male from District Eleven, and even he looks to be taller than me.

"Just don't draw attention to yourselves, blend in and try and learn something useful if you can," Matilda keeps it short and to the point. She has already explained to us that it would be in our best interests to avoid making allies, she tells us that they will only bring us down. "You would also do well to observe the other tributes."

I commit her words to memory, she would know best seeing as she was once in our shoes. I repeat these words in my mind as we are given one last look-over before M'Shell brings us down to the training room.

James and I are not the first ones here, we are still a half hour early and already the tributes from One, Two, Four, Seven, Ten, and Twelve are here. We join the semicircle of kids, James choosing a spot in the second row beside the blonde girl from Five while I stand in the very back just behind the boy from District Ten. My heart is pounding and I have the sudden urge to run back to the elevator and back to my bedroom. I plant my feet firmly on the ground to keep myself still and clench my hands into fists so that my shaking might not be as noticeable.

I keep my gaze fixated on the floor but the words of my mentor keep playing through my head and I force my eyes around the room. The District Two male is eyeing the display of spears that is set up across the room and his district partner just looks around at the other tributes with a confident look in her eyes. When I accidentally catch her gaze she smirks and I quickly turn away towards the door just in time to watch the District Nine and Eleven tributes enter. The younger boy from Eleven, Tommy I think his name was, skips in happily and doesn't appear nervous in the least.

60:1, that's all I can think of right now.

My entire body is shaking, I can't stand to be this close to the people who won't hesitate to kill me in a few days. I redirect my eyes to scout out the large room. The equipment seems to be divided into various stations, I can see that about half of them are dedicated to weaponry and the rest look to be for learning survival skills. There is also a huge rope net strung across the room and what appears to be some sort of obstacle course on the far left. I flinch at the sudden voice that carries across the vast room and I look over to see that a tall man with forest green hair and matching green eyes standing at the base of the semicircle. All of the tributes have arrived I assume and he is here to start our training.

"Okay everyone here's the deal, you will have three days to train before you make your presentations to the Gamemakers. There will be two compulsory exercises this morning and the rest will be for you to decide," he explains, there is something in his voice that puts me on edge, as if he himself is planning how to kill each of us. "Now there is one rule, there will be no fighting with other tributes, please save that for when you enter the arena. My advice to you is to learn something that might keep you alive, it is up to you to decide what that might be."

With that he sent us off to the first mandatory exercise and we line up to take turns climbing our way across a large net that has been strung about ten or so feet above the ground. I line up between the District Six boy and the District Ten girl, both of them are at least five inches taller than me, neither look very threatening but I could picture them killing me all the same.

The first tribute to go is the District Two male, Talon, who makes it across the net with very little difficulty. Next to go is the District One female who shows no sign of being strained in the least. Ten more tributes have their turn before the boy in front of me prepares to climb, he climbs the side net with very little difficulty but it takes him nearly five minutes to reach the middle of the net, after another seven minutes it is my turn to go. I can hear small chuckles around me but I force myself up the side of the net. My hands already burn from the harsh rope when I finally reach out to grab the overhead ropes, when my other hand grips the piece directly in front of me I slowly let my legs free of the safety of the side net.

Almost immediately I drop to the floor and can hear the snickering around me, my back hurts from where I landed and my head is spinning. The trainer helps me up and points me in the direction of the next station, already five tributes have made it through the obstacle course in front of me. I hear someone in front of me call it "The Gauntlet," and I watch the girl from District Seven take off from the starting point. Men in black jumpsuits lash out at her with long, foam boards but she avoids every one, when she finally makes it to the finishing point she simply walks off towards the knife stations without so much as a backwards glance.

When my turn comes I perch myself on the first platform and jump onto the closest one, a man swings at me and I nearly lose my balance but manage to land on the edge of the platform. As soon as I catch my balance I move onto the next one, I narrowly avoid the foam boards but the final one catches me on the top of my leg, it doesn't hurt but it is enough to throw me off balance. I land on the last platform on my hands and knees but I smile lightly because I made it through this time.

Now I head off to the optional stations, Matilda told me it was best to lay low so I look at all the stations that are currently unoccupied. The one in the back corner of the room is empty and I walk over to find out that this is the poisons station. The instructor looks surprised to see someone there and quickly arranges a place for me to work, all the while telling me about how useful poisons can be in the arena. Within just twenty minutes I know how to create three new potions, one to corrode metal (which he tells me is also very effective on human skin), one that works as a super glue and one that is lethal when consumed. The instructor is about to tell me about a poison that can be lethal if touched when the girl from Nine sits herself down at the station and begins mixing. I take that as my cue to leave and I decide to take more of Matilda's advice and observe the other tributes so I walk over to the weaponry stations.

By now most of the tributes have found a station to work at and I can tell that an alliance has already began to form with the trained tributes of District One and Two, as well as the girl from Four and the boy from Seven. Currently they are all practicing at the spear station and this seems to be the preferred weapon of the District One girl by the way she is throwing them. I hear footsteps behind me and whip around to see James walking up behind me.

"Found out anything Neon?"

I nod my head and point to where the large group is practicing, he stares intently at them for a few moments before speaking again.

"Those are the Careers, I've heard about them. They make a huge alliance in the early days of training and they take over most of the supplies, it's very rare that any of them would die early on."

His blue eyes light up as if an idea has just popped into his head and he starts walking towards the station where the Careers are practicing. I grab onto his hand and ask him in a whisper what he is going to do.

"Get us into the Careers, that's the best way to keep us safe."

Why would he want to keep me safe? We aren't allies, I thought I had already made that clear to him, I don't want his help, or anyone's help. I could never live with myself if I knew I was putting anyone in more danger than they were already in. I mean, I'm not exactly an asset into an alliance. I would just be dead weight, I can't use any weapons or fight or even contribute to survival. No, I had already decided that I was going in alone.

He pulls his hand out of my grip and continues towards them, I weave around the fire and plants stations but stay far enough away that I won't be noticed. James starts talking to them and they look at each other for a minute or so before they burst out laughing. James is fuming by now and starts to talk in a louder tone, though I am still not able to hear what he is saying. The girl from District One who appears to be their leader puts her hand on James' shoulder and says something before she pushes him away and goes back to her spears.

James goes back to where we had met up before and looks around for me. I duck into the nearest station which happens to be plant identification. It's not that I don't want to be friends with James, he is one of the nicest people in all of District Three, it's just that I don't want it to hurt him when I die. I want James to win and I don't want him to have to live with any regrets or sadness.

There is already someone in this station and I can't help buts stare, it's the boy from District Four who wears the cloth around his eyes. He looks very strong and I can't help but wonder why he hasn't joined with the Career tributes like his district partner. Surely they could use someone as big and strong as he is, and he appears to know about plants which could come in handy.

"Who's there?"

I freeze and my breath catches, it's not like I am trying to hide or anything. He just sounds angry and I find myself unable to breath.

"I said who's there?!"

I take a tentative step forward and he seems to know that I am getting closer, his other senses must be sharp to make up for his eyes.

"Tell me who you are!"

He has stood up and moves his head around wildly as if he could actually see me. I feel bad for not telling him who I am but the large boy in front of me scares me too much for me to say anything. After a minute or two he sits back down, his breathing still rapid and his skin flushed with red. I move closer to him and it doesn't seem as if he notices me, I should just leave but there is something I have to ask him.

"Why do you wear cloth over your eyes?" My voice comes out just above a whisper and the boy's head turns towards me. There is no longer a threatening feeling about him, he just seems, sad.

His voice is low and much quieter than I would have expected by his size, "someone once told me that my eyes were beautiful, so I hid them."

I don't really understand what he means by this but I feel some sympathy for him, maybe someone was making fun of him? I know how much that can hurt. His body begins to shake and he reaches under the fabric to place his hands near his eyes, I place my hand lightly on his shoulder and he flinches at the touch.

"Please go away," I barely register that he has said anything at all, his voice so quiet that I can be sure I was the only one to hear it. My hand lingers a second longer on his shoulder before I quietly walk out away from the station, leaving the boy behind with his tears.

While I am trying to decide where to go next I hear a chilling voice announce that we will now be breaking for lunch. All the tributes stop working and begin to walk through a large set of double doors into what I assume will be the lunch room. As I am just about to enter the room the District Five girl turns and gives me a warm smile which I don't have the nerve to return. The room is cluttered with metal tables and chairs and there is a long counter at the back of the room where we are told to line up to receive our food. I get in line behind the boy from Nine who just stares at the floor as he waits for his turn.

Once I have been given a tray with my lunch on it I start to look for a place to sit, in the middle of the room the Career alliance laughs and jokes as they consume every bite. A few tables to their right sits Harrison who is talking enthusiastically as the other two members of the alliance eat quietly, clearly not up to talking as much as he is. Everyone else is kind of sparsely placed around the room, some sit with their district partners like District Six, but most just sit at a table by themselves.

A few tables away from where I stand James sits at a table by himself, when he sees me standing here he waves me over. I look at him for a moment but decide to sit at an empty table in the corner by myself. James looks kind of hurt but soon returns to his food, it's not like I don't want to be around James, he is one of the coolest people I have ever met. I just need some time alone to think.

I see the boy from One hold up a spoon and look at the reflection of himself as he fixes his hair. I heard the people from that district were shallow, and he wouldn't have scared me so much if I hadn't seen him do the same thing with the blade of a sword. His district partner catches me looking at them and gives me a chilling smile, forcing my gaze away almost immediately. I start to nibble on a piece of fruit that I could not tell you the name of and let my eyes wander about the room at the other tributes, being careful not to have any of them notice me.

I have just finished the fruit when we are told that lunch is over and training will resume, I sigh and stand up, heading for the door. Three people dressed in identical red tunics walk out of another door wheeling a cart between them, as they walk they pick up the discarded trays and place them delicately on the cart. I am the last to leave the lunch room and the door shuts with a metal clink behind me.

Looking over I can see that the poisons station already contains a tribute so to avoid anymore confrontations I decide to try the climbing wall. Most arenas in the Hunger Games I can remember have contained a fair amount of trees to provide camouflage, otherwise the Games might end too soon for the Capital's liking. After listening carefully to the climbing techniques explained to me by a bored looking instructor I prepare to climb. I look around one last time to make sure no one is watching me, I don't need any more attention from the other tributes. Not after I fell off the net course this morning, the other tributes would definitely remember an extremely able competitor but they would also be likely to remember the exceptionally weak ones. Somehow I need to land myself right in the middle of the two.

My pale hand wraps around the first stone and I grip it tightly as my foot moves from the floor to the wall. Taking another long breath I shift my weight to my left and move my right foot upwards. After a few more minutes of this slow process I dare myself to look towards the ground. To my delight I am at least 15 feet off the ground, glancing upwards I can see a resting spot which appears to be no more than a large hole in the climbing wall. A few minutes later I reach the hole and drag myself into it, breathing harshly from exertion.

Something about being up so high and away from everyone else brings a sense of calmness to my body, for a moment I imagine that I am back in District Three, sitting in the Lab working on my circuits. I was always happiest there, I could be alone with my own thoughts and no one would care that I was quiet or small. They would just see what I could make and wouldn't focus on me.

Most of the large training room is visible from this height and I take this opportunity to take Matilda's advice and observe the other tributes. The girl from District Two is holding a long sword while working at the fire station. It takes me a moment to realize what she is doing but when the blade is coated in bright flames I can see that the trained tributes' abilities have not been overstated. The girl from Four who is just one year older than me holds a silver trident with both hands as she prepares to take on two instructors. The District Seven boy who has also joined them is standing in front of a pile of stuffing and fabric, all that is left of a training dummy, with a large steel axe gripped tightly in his hand.

60:1

I turn away from the weapons stations and instead look out at the ones detailing survival, the District Eleven girl is working diligently at the knot tying station along with the girl from Ten who seems to have mastered a rather intricate snare. The edible plants station holds three tributes, the boy from Twelve, and the girls from Six and Eight, none of them acknowledge the others and concentrate intensely on their own work.

Looking over at the running tracks I see the District Twelve girl standing with her hands on her thighs, her face red and breathing harsh. After a few moments she takes off and makes the long trip around the track in just seconds, now that would be a good skill to know for the Games.

When I am back on the ground I look around for another station, a boy who by the number on his sleeve is from District Nine stands in front of a large screen with at least a hundred dark pictures. He touches the panel in front of him and two of the photos fade away. I see, this must be a matching game of some sort. I stand and watch the boy as he matches a few more sets of tiles before he finally gets bored and marches away. Before I know what I'm doing I scurry over to stand in front of the panel which reaches nearly to my chest. I press a button that is labelled reset and the large screen fills with more scattered pictures and a timer in the corner begins to count up from zero.

My fingers fly across the board as the tiles begin to disappear from the projected screen, slowly at first but soon getting quicker. When the screen has been cleared I look to the timer which has now stopped, 57 seconds.

"Wow that was amazing!" A cheerful voice chimes behind me and I turn quickly only to find myself looking directly into someone's stomach. I take a few steps back and tilt my head up to look at the tall tribute. The one that stands closest to me, no doubt the owner of the voice that startled me, is a tall boy with light brown hair and pale skin. I recognize him as the District Eight male, Harrison. Behind him stands two other tributes, a girl with long, white hair and light blue eyes and the tall boy with dark eyes and hair that I remember from the beginning of training. The female from Eight, Maia and the male from Ten, Alexander.

I realize that I have just been staring at them for at least a minute or so and Maia gives Alexander a confused look which he returns. Harrison smiles down at me and can feel my heartbeat quicken and my legs begin to tremble.

"Alex, Maia and I saw you over here by yourself and we were wondering if you wanted to join our alliance?" The cheerful grin does not falter and his eyes look genuinely kind, despite this I find myself unable to speak so I just continue to look up at the boy. Obviously noticing that I was not going to respond Harrison tries again.

"I'm Harrison, what's your name Three?" He reaches a large hand out to me, instinctively I take a step back and he looks genuinely confused as to my behavior. Still my lips do not let words pass and I take a couple more steps away from the trio until my back hits the side of the game panel.

"Okay," Harrison's smile returns to his face and he returns his hand to his side, "if you decide to reconsider you know where to find us!"

With this the tributes walk off towards the survival stations, Harrison chatting happily to the two even though only the girl seems to respond. I turn back around to face the panel but can't bring myself to reset the game and begin again, instead I make my way back over to the poisons station which is currently unoccupied.

The instructor begins setting out an arrangement of supplies for me all the while telling me about a great mixture that will kill someone almost instantly when touched. He starts to demonstrate but I find it hard to concentrate, I never imagined that I would be the one killing people. But standing here I realize that it's possible. I begin to think that maybe I do have a chance, but the thought is quickly replaced by the numbers that have haunted me all day.

60:1


	19. Going Strong

**A/N-** Last chapter I said one every day, well in my time zone a new day has started so I am updating with the next chapter :D Hope you are all enjoying this story so far, we've still got a lot more to get through and I'm glad you are all with us. Anyway hope you like this next one, reviews would be nice :) Unfortunately TheEpicAlienGirl (formely known as newbie11) could not write her chapter so we have the wonderful Blue Eyes Arch Angel filling in :)

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**Blue Eyes Arch Angel A/N- **I know this is not my tribute so I hope I've done a good job of writing her, and I'd like to say you've all been wonderfully brilliant writers and readers, keep it up! By the way the first bit of dialogue from Oceava comes first hand from TheEpicAlienGirl

I dedicate this one to the lovely TheEpicAlienGirl!

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**Evening of Training Day One**

**Oceava Lac, District Four Female**

_**Written by Blue Eyes Arch Angel, submitted by TheEpicAlienGirl**_

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This training has been tougher than I had expected. Those trainers really did go all out on you in those sessions. It's a thankful thing Fiche let me train at his centre day in day out, otherwise my grip on the training stations could have faltered badly. Difficult or not though, I admit they were quite enjoyable (which my brother always told me to do when training, takes away the stress) and along with my newfound alliance, I think we have made quite a name for ourselves to the others. Hopefully, many of them now know I'm not to be underestimated. Especially that fickle depressing blind boy I was dragged here with. I'll show him I'm not just another 'mindless career'. I'm so much stronger than that.

Still, after all of that I seem to have had all the energy drained from me. Disgusting sweat is dripping slowly from my forehead and the rest of my body. I didn't think I'd worked off that much energy. A small sniff and I realise I also stink.

Ugh I could really use a hot shower, and I'm not going to get one walking at this snail's pace. My mouth arches into a grin. Yeah, I can still muster some energy. Taking a deep breath, before I know it my legs are pumping and I'm now accelerating down the hallway. Stamina training has certainly advanced my running well because now my body is just speeding down this corridor. On my way I end up passing by several of the other tributes. Harrison gives me a small smile and a friendly wave. That boy from district 3, James Temple-something directs me an odd look, but Silver flashes me her confident smile. Seeing the elected leader of our career alliance fills me with the get go I need. To think, everything has paid off. I'm here now, stronger than ever and allied with some of the greatest tributes the games have to offer.

It's all turning out right for me, it's all-

BASH!

Ugh, whatever I just banged into was certainly heavy. My head is already developing a dull ache.

"…You again, no-one else runs with such brutal unnecessary force"

That voice. A muffled groan gets past my lips and as pull my heavy body from the floor, then I direct my eyes up to whoever I just ran into.

Oh great. Blind boy again. I'd better say something witty.

"Gee, thanks. It's good for knocking people over, or so I remember"

"I know that from first-hand experience"

I chuckle a bit. Oh right, I remember that. He certainly wasn't happy that time either. Not like I cared.

"I'm glad you were down, but it's a pity you weren't down and out, that simply would have made my day"

I laugh a little bit, but stop as soon as his face contorts with irritation, though strangely not quite as angered as it was before.

"You know, you're not really making my perception of you any better"

That idiot, doesn't he ever get a hint?

"You do realize we are going into the arena to kill each other, right? The more hate each other, the more likely we'll kill each other. Sound like a plan?"

"If you don't want to end up dead, don't make enemies"

But I won't die.

"I won't be dead, to win, the others need to die, if you make enemies you can just kill them. What did you expect, everyone to drop their weapons and hug each other?"

I smile proudly at him. Maybe that will shut him up for a moment. But then he does something unexpected. He smiles. It's more like an arrogant smile but it's still unusual for this guy.

"You know, at first you were becoming a thorn in my side and i wasn't going to hesitate killing you first, but now i may spare your pathetic life for a little while longer"

Was he…just merciful? Maybe he isn't so bad. Just maybe, but I can't let him know that yet.

"I was going to kill you first, but maybe I'll save you for later…Shark"

I have no idea where that nickname came from, it just seemed appropriate in some way.

"Shark? That's a new one, fine, I'll see you later…piranha"

I smirk at my own given nickname.

"Pirahna? Not so new, but usable"

His smiles soon fades a bit.

"Whatever, you nearly got 'angel fish' but that title belongs to someone else"

That statement confuses me a bit. No, wait…it couldn't have been…not that blonde boy before…

"Damn it!"

I don't get to dwell further on that as Azura seems to exclaim rather loudly from behind. My body whips round to see Azura standing in front of a rather tall and slender woman with tanned skin and matted black hair, who is looking at him apologetically with her turquoise eyes.

"Sorry! I must have got distracted again. It's good to see you Azura…oh and you too Oceava!" she squeaks happily at us.

Oh, it must Brook, our mentor. She's a bit of a ditzy person but I'll admit, her advice so far has been useful. Azura just grumbles and steps to one side, fixing the scarf around his neck.

"Still fiddling with that, huh? Why don't we actually go inside?" she exclaims.

Confused I turn my head. Turns out I had bumped into the shark right outside the room for district. Brook leads the way in, myself leading after and Azura shortly following.

Once inside, our mentor sits us both down at the main table. She sits at the other side of us on the furnished table. I sit straight across from her. Azura is sitting at the very end of the table. I think he chose that seat deliberately.

I wait for a moment for what she has to say. Well, I'm actually waiting for her to stop fiddling with her hair. Really? I just want to get on with it. I thought she was supposed to be mentoring us?

I give a small cough and she looks up at me.

"Oh right, sorry! Alright, today was training right?"

I nod.

"Fine, I'd like a review of how it went for both of you. Oceava, did get into that alliance with the other careers?"

I nod again.

"Perfect, now you just have to keep your wits about, don't ever let your guard around them for a second, unless you want to die! Like I nearly did…"

I roll my eyes. She is always going on about that. I think she might have suffered some sort of post-traumatic stress.

"How about everything else? Anything you got stuck on, anything you seem to have excelled at? I need to know everything" she says, her tone lowering with a more serious essence to it. Finally. Slowly but calmly I explain the entire day, from the first exercises, to the training stations, to the alliance. Brook presses me further on that one. She asks about each member in the group. I explain about each one individually, their strengths and weaknesses-Zeo, Silver, Talon, Kaya and Fir. She looks slightly confused at Fir, him being from a lower district after all. After I finish she seems to contemplate for a moment.

"Alright, good. It's seems you're going strong at the moment Oceava. Keep it up"

Azura huffs. Brook turns her head to him.

"How about you Azura? How did training go for you?" she asks.

He remains silent.

"Azura-Jay?"

He still doesn't say anything. Though his face is turned towards us, I hear him let out a small sob. Brooks reaches he long, lanky arm out to his should but just inches before she touches him, he storms out his chair and hurriedly finds his way back to his room. An awkward silence fills the room for a moment. But after some time Brook gets herself up from her own chair, stretches then looks back at me.

"You know, I think it's about time we turned in for the night too, oh and get a shower too Oceava, you stink from all that training" she mutters with a smile before sauntering off to her own room. I get up myself, walking back to my room, but on my way I hear some sobs. I stop for a moment. There are more choked sobs coming from the room next to me. Azura's room. Maybe I should forgive after all.

Just maybe.


	20. Friends and Enemies

**A/N- **I know this is another update in such a short time but we had such a long gap I am catching up so expect a lot of updates in the space of a few days. Once we reach the Games though we will stick to schedule and return to having around 3 every week. Anyway this chapter is another that wasn't written by its author. Unfortunately Magicbl00d quit Thirteen but we have the amazing DA Member Hogwarts stepping in and she's definitely done a good job :D

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**DA Member Hogwarts A/N- **Hey again, Megan here with my second chapter of thirteen. Seeing as I have the burden of being Holly's friend I felt like I should pick up her chapter after she quit :P Love you really Holly!

Also I am so sorry that this chapter is a bit disjointed and all over the place and Dale may be a bit out of character , I just found it hard to adapt to this character who is not my own!Oh and thanks so much to the official grammar Queen, Immy for improving this chapter for me with her grammar proofing ways :)

BUT the main thing I'd like to tell of you fellow authors of Thirteen is; YOU ARE ALL FAR TOO MAD! Lmao XD

(and no I do NOT mean angry)

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**Training Day Two**

**Dale Cash, District Six Male**

_**Written by DA Member Hogwarts, submitted by Magicbl00d**_

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Another day of training is about to commence and I can't say I'm too thrilled about it. I mean yesterday was alright seeing as I had Jade with me. She's pretty cool, Jade, for a girl that is.

She seems to be alright with my awkwardness and it doesn't hurt that she is from home. It's nice to have a friend, well she is as close to a friend as I am going to get. I just hate the whole prospect of being forced to learn how to kill these other kids all for the Capitol's satisfaction. I could go on to list the morally reprehensible implications of the whole procedure but why bother? You get the point.

Yesterday Jade and I focused on survival; Identification of plants, first aid and all of that and I even taught her a bit about tying knots and traps seeing as I am pretty good with that area of expertise. Jade proved quite useful with her knowledge of the proper use of a slingshot but that's about all we did when it came to weapon training. We decided to be allies on the first night. Why not? District Six should stick together I feel and it couldn't hurt to have someone around to ask questions even if it does make me feel slightly awkward. I mean we'll have to stay with each other at all times even at night! For some reason the thought makes me uncomfortable but I push it down.

Jade and I make the journey in the elevator together. She's mentioned that she thinks it would be best to focus more on weapons and fighting today. I think I'll let her go it alone on that front. I just can't see myself killing another human being and that's what I continue to tell our sadistic and slightly crazy mentor, Faux. It's a shame District six hasn't had a victor yet because between Faux and that ditzy bimbo Snowdrop, Jade and I have had to endure quite a lot of aggravation and we have not received one scrap of decent advice. Well nothing that will be of any help to me anyway.

How can I survive without having to discard my morals? I doubt that I can but I wish someone would tell me something other than 'just do your best honey' or 'slit their throats while they are sleeping, that is the only chance a useless weakling like you has.'

Training and survival are not the only things on my mind this morning however. I keep revisiting in my mind those final moments before we boarded that train. I'm really going to miss my family and Reyna and the others but I can't help being confused by what she did to me before I left. I say that like it was a crime, the kiss, but I'm just finding it difficult to work out her motives for committing such an act.

"Jade ..." I begin as the elevator comes to a standstill and the doors open. "You're a girl."

"Yes, Dale, I am." Jade replies rather bluntly though she is smiling. I think she is getting used to me saying quite obvious things like that.

"Yeah and that's why I wanted to ask you something. Why do you girls do such odd things?"

"Like what?" Jade asks sounding confused yet amused.

"Well this girl who I've been friends with for years did something before I left. In the Justice building."

"She did what exactly?" Jade asks clearly baffled now.

"She kissed me right before I left. It was a bit odd seeing as we've been friends for years and she never once mentioned that she ... you know, wanted to kiss me? It was a bit of a cliché moment to be honest." I blurt out awkwardly.

I don't know why I've just told Jade that but she is the closest thing to a friend I have here. Jade raises an eyebrow and looks at me pensively.

"Cliché? Dale, you are so strange! A girl won't just tell you straight out she wants to kiss you and what do you mean it is cliché? I think it is kind of nice of her to do, maybe she had been wanting to and was too shy and then she saw her chance and she took it."

I consider this for a moment. How would I know anyway? The mysterious ways of girls makes my head hurt.

"Well you know. A girl kissing her friend just before he goes away possibly forever does sound quite cliché to me. It seems to me that she was probably confused and caught up with the mixture of conflicting emotions and she just acted crazily."

Jade rolls her eyes and tells me I am just over thinking things as usual and tells me to take it for what it was worth. I don't have a clue what it was worth. I mean I liked it when I wasn't concentrated on not puking out of shock or doing something awkward like biting her lip.

Jade and I make the short walk to the training centre and find a handful of tributes already there getting on with their own things. I spy the career tributes together engaging in weapon training of course and trying to show each other up. Typical. I try not to pay any of them any attention , it's better that way so I retreat to the very small station where the sling shot training takes place to pick up where we left off yesterday. But after a few minutes of hitting targets with the sling stones, an eerie feeling settles itself upon me. Something doesn't feel right. I can feel the hairs standing upright on the back of my neck. Something just doesn't feel right, I can sense it.

Jade is too busy shooting dummies in the face with stones to notice it but I can't shake the feeling. I walk up to her left side and tap her shoulder. Jade jumps slightly and drops the sling she was holding to her feet.

"Jade, do you feel like someone is watching us?" I attempt to whisper but it comes out much too loudly.

Rae, the girl from Nine at the nearby knot tying station turns around and gives us a look as if to say she would not bother spending her time watching us and goes back to her task. Good, she makes me feel uneasy, that girl with her judgemental eyes and sharp tongue.

Jade rolls her eyes for what feels like the twentieth time today and sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Well Dale, in case you haven't noticed, we are in the Capitol so therefore everyone is watching us." She says while motioning all around us with her hands as if to prove her point.

"And in a few days the whole world is going to be watching us."

Jade thinks I am just being paranoid as usual but I know what I feel. I can't shake the feeling.

"No Jade. I mean like right now! Someone in particular, I can feel their eyes on me!" I proclaim much too loudly again.

I know I sound dramatic but I trust my own intuition. Jade opens her mouth probably to scoff at my awkward ways again but then I notice her! She is standing in the shadows to the corner of the training stations on this side of the room, watching, a tiny mouse like little girl with straggly dull blonde hair. It is Neon Edison, thirteen years old, District Three.

I'd almost not have noticed her but her blonde hair stands out. Jade looks in the direction I am staring now too and Neon scampers off like a frightened deer caught in a spotlight to a further end of the room.

"I told you someone was watching us. I told you." I tell her in a matter of fact toneof fact.

I'm not boasting. I just like to make it known when I am right. I knew I wasn't being paranoid! Jade just shakes her head and shrugs, unfazed by it all but I for one feel a bit uneasy having some random girl watching me. I mean I feel that Neon is harmless in theory but how much do we know about her? And if she is smart enough to observe her competition and learn as much as she can about them then this could put her at an extreme advantage point. No matter how much of an unknown threat Neon may be I know I could never hurt that little girl. She looked so scared even just being caught watching us so who knows how terrified she will be when faced with those trying to kill her.

I won't be one of those people. I know what is right and what is wrong and I can't change that. If it means my death and I am smart enough to know that it does, then so be it. I can't do something that I have always been so vocally against. I'd rather die as me than live as someone else, someone I am not proud of, and someone I would despise.

"We've done enough of this." Jade remarks waving the slingshot she just retrieved from the floor in my face. She then bites her lip looking slightly apprehensive before speaking again. "I think we really should practice something a bit more defensive, something other than traps and long distance weapons, how about knives?"

I start to shake my head but Jade is looking at me with an apparent glint in her eyes. It is burning determination I decide. Jade, unlike me, seems to have resigned herself to thought of killing. That's fine by me, I will get nowhere trying to stop her but that does not mean I wish to join her.

"Uh you go ahead. I want to go take a look through the edible plants again, just to be sure. I'll catch up with you later."

Jade just shrugs and goes off on her separate way. She knows I am just making excuses but I am sure after hearing my constant refrain from using weapons to Faux she knows there is no point arguing. Coincidently, I already remember everything we memorised 's just thatI just can't bring myself to try anything else and besides, not many others seems to hang around at this station and the trainer there is also rather solitary and lets you get on with it with minimal interference.

I cross to the far side of the room to the lonely and rather small station laid down with various plants and other edible items and labels depicting their names and properties. At least I can be alone here and actually feel sane as opposed to how I would feel having to wield some type of weapon.

"You can go, Six, I'll be using this station now."

What?I jump, taken aback by this forceful declaration and turn around to face whoever it is. I look up at the sound of this voice and am met by the gaze of who else, a career.

I remember her of course, Silver Hartford, eighteen years old, District One

I am slightly taken a back so I just stare and her and try to mumble a response. She looks at me like I am the dirt beneath her precocious feet. And she repeats her request for me to leave. I am a bit shocked that a career would want to use this station. Perhaps she came here for the sole purpose of pushing me around.

"Sorry?" Is all that I can bring myself to say to her.

"And so you should be!" Silver snaps her intense grey eyes' narrowing in what I assume is disgust.

"No I did not mean I apologise. I meant sorry as in what do you mean? Why can't we both use this station after all it is not yours exactly, is it? And my name is Dale by the way."

Silver draws herself up to full height which I must admit is rather impressive. She is probably the tallest female I have ever seen and she continues to glare at me. I should just shut up and get out of her way but something stops me. It is not pride exactly. I guess I do quite enjoy annoying people like her. People who feel they are better than you because of their looks and their strength.

"Well then Daleyou listen to me. I want to use this station and I want to use it alone. I don't care to share it with a pathetic little twerp like you who can't seem to speak one coherent sentence without stuttering. Now get out of my way or you will regret it."

She has a point there. I do stumble my way through speech at the best of times but in my defence I have done quite well during this conversation!

I would say something else but I've already exhausted myself trying to get through to this arrogant girl and so I decide it's time to leave and find someone I can stand talking to. But she stops me.

See what I mean about girls!? They tell you they want one thing and then they completely contradict themselves. I thought she wanted me to leave?

The tall self obsessed bimbo from district One blocks my way with her surprisingly strong shoulder. Great, what does she want now?

"No one walks away from Silver Hartford when she is talking to them!" She spits with apparent venom, her grey eyes narrowing further as she stares me down.

I find it rather amusing that she is referring to herself in the third person and even more so how arrogant she is. Classic district One pride.

I clear my throat in order to make sure I don't stutter. I'm already not intimidating enough as it is.

"Well, evidently I just did ..." I say and let my words hang in the air. Silver's perfect face etches to an expression of pure and utter rage. I doubt she is used to people speaking back to her. Especially people like me.

Silver glances over her shoulder and sure enough there are Game makers and peace keepers surrounding us so she can't harm me, not physically anyway.

"Well District Six just know that you have just made a powerful enemy. You won't be so smart when you have a spear in your chest. My spear. And if someone else happens to get to you before me, I will be sure to thank them before I kill them myself."

I actually do start laughing now. I can't help it. She is just too predictable.

"Not the most original of threats, but I'm sure you tried your best." I quickly quip.

Silver is temporarily dumbstruck as if she cannot believe someone like me has dared to insult her and I use this to my advantage and scurry off to find Jade.

Great just what I need, a deluded though no doubt dangerous career tribute with a vendetta against me and it is only the second day of training. Oh well, I couldn't just let her think she could walk all over me like that. It was much more enjoyable to insult her intelligence. It's the same problem I have at home. I should just let bullies like that go and shut my mouth but I can't help responding. It's not in my nature to bite my tongue especially when I know I'm not in the wrong.

I can't wait until this day is over! I've already been stalked by a strange and staring girl from Three, one of the most dangerous tributes in the career pack personally wants me dead, my district partner is practically insisting that I should learn how to kill and now I can't even stay hidden away at the plants station. Oh and I've been giving the death stare by Rae from Nine. Could this day get any worse?

I can't even see Jade in this sea of tributes and various other Capitol people. I have to scan the room for a few times until I catch sight of her shiny black hair and quite petite body on the left-hand side of the large training centre.

Oh great. She is practising throwing knives. So if I don't want to be alone and possibly suffer an early death at the hands of Silver Hartford, I will have to join her.

And what's worse there seems to be another group of tributes hanging around nearby. An alliance perhaps? I remember these tributes. There is Harrison Sigell, the lanky and overly cheerful male from Eight and his equally happy yet somewhat dazed partner Maia Rune. If I recall correctly they are sixteen and fourteen respectively. There is another tribute with them which I am rather confused about. Alexander Finch, seventeen years old, District Ten. I wonder why someone so serious and rather intimidating is along with those two happy heads.

Well I knew that around this time tributes would start to align. I've seen the trained tributes together and even the youngest tribute in these Games, Tommy Dravna from Eleven is hanging around with Derak Penfold from Nine.

Jade is enough for me, possibly more than enough. It is a good thing I am not the kind of person most people would request for an alliance.

I join Jade and just hang back a bit and watch her try to hit targets with a series of small throwing knives. After the seventh or eighth try one of her knifes flies toward the target and embeds itself in the outer ring of the target board. Not bad for someone who has only began knife training this afternoon.

I am so engrossed in watching Jade that it is a shock to feel someone tapping me on the shoulder. In my state of shock I can't help blurting out 'leave me alone, Silver!' to which someone laughs cheerfully. Jade and I whirl around to find said alliance afore mentioned. The one who has approached me is Harrison and he is smiling earnestly. Does he ever stop smiling? And the small, almost white headed Maia is standing by his side smiling serenely. Alexander hangs back slightly. I am still not sure why he is with these two but I'm not going to ask.

Harrison holds his hand out for me to shake and introduces himself. I don't really know what to do or say as social endeavours have never been my strong point.

"We want you to be our friend!" Maia blurts out and Harrison smiles. Uh what?

"That's right, Maia. Well the correct term in this situation is ally." Harrison says turning his attention momentarily to his district partner and then directs it back to me.

"Yes. We were thinking the more the merrier! And we've observed your skills with traps and slingshots and we think you would be a valuable ally! So what do you say" Harrison carries on talking, listing all sorts of compliments and reasons for wanting me to be his ally.

He is just so upbeat and positive how could I even say no? I never imagined myself in an alliance like this but this group may be one I can work with. Harrison is so friendly and positive I could never see him killing somebody, Maia is so sweet and kind and not altogether coherent and Alexander seems to detest the Capitol even more than I do, not to mention he would probably be good to have around to protect Jade and I. Jade! I almost forgot!

I can't just abandon her. Jade gets to come with me or I won't join at all. After all she is something of a friend to me now.

"Well I am glad you have asked me to be in your alliance but, um, can Jade join? It's just she is my partner after all ..." I trail off awkwardly. Maia nods straight away and says something along the lines that Jade has pretty hair and she'd love to be her friend, Alexander just shrugs and Harrison looks slightly apprehensive for a moment. Maybe he views Jade as a potential threat?

It is strange to see that dude not smiling.

But within seconds the signature charming smile is back and he announces that of course she is welcome and he would never leave a tribute behind. Good. Because as I said before. District Six will stick together.

"What do you think Jade? I'm in if you are?"

She considers the offer for a moment and appears to be thinking deeply before she nods and Harrison moves forward to shake her hand too.

I may not be a mind reader but I know that Jade is determined to get back to her family and she will take all of the help she can get. So she probably agreed to this as a way to better her chances. All that I can think however is "I have four allies, four!"

This really has been a strange day and with the Hunger Games looming in the near future, things can only get stranger for me. Not every cloud has a silver lining, I know that much. I have a real ominous feeling about the coming days. My days are outnumbered, I can feel it.


	21. Always the Optimist

**A/N- **I hope I'm not going too fast, but I really just want to catch up, although I am still missing 3 Capitol chapters so there probably will be a short break in about two chapters time. Anyway this next chapter is brought to you by... well me. Yes that's right you are to be blessed with the lovely Harrison again ;) I know that the grammar probably isn't the best since that isn't my strong point but regardless I hope you like the chapter :)

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**Evening of Training Day Two**

**Harrison Sigell, District Eight Male**

_**jakey121**_

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I just can't believe it. The size, the people, the food, the lights, just everything about the Capitol is unbelievable. How they managed to build all this is beyond my imagination, you have to hand it to the President and all the others in authority, they sure know to run such a grand paradise. Making sure that everyone is happy seems an impossible task but since I got here I don't think I have seen a Capitol person without a smile on their face, or at least a small grin.

Only Nile has thrown a hissy fit but this is Nile, he's always having a tantrum over something. 'That isn't hardcore enough,' 'I am so hardcore, how dare you question me!'

Seriously we just can't get him to shut up.

But that's who he is, I'm not one to talk. All my life I've been questioned for why I am the way I am. I'm never rude to those people; if they want to ask questions then so be it. I will never judge someone, I will never judge the Careers for their bloodthirsty attitude towards the Games, I will never judge those that for whatever reason do not want an alliance.

The way people play the game is up to them, I've gone for the better option in my opinion. A large alliance is great, besides they're all so kind. I have Maia who's just incredible to talk to, Alexander isn't the most co-operative person but when me and Maia saw him we immediately knew he would be an incredible asset. We also have Dale and Jade, not the strongest of people but who am I to judge? Just look at me, I'm not the strongest either. Put us all together and take a good look at us. Personally, I think we're a capable alliance. And as for the question of when to break it off? Well that can come later. For now I'll look to the fact that one of us can win this. It's possible and if we try hard the five of us can make it far.

"Harrison, come on and get out for dinner. Maia's being tough and she isn't staying holed up in her room." Nile's voice draws me away from my thoughts and back to reality, back to the Capitol, back to the fact that in a matter of days I will be sent into an Arena where my death is most likely to arrive.

Damn it, the negativity. Why do these thoughts keep creeping their way back into my mind? No matter how hard I try to push them out they always return. It's annoying to say the least.

"HARRISON GET OUT NOW, STOP BEING SUCH A BABY!"

"Damn it Nile. Just gimme a minute!"

I slap my hand over my mouth. Did I just shout at my escort? One of the two people who will help me in this all? I stand up quickly, straighten out the trousers of my training clothes and head to the door, my hand reaches out for the doorknob but before I can twist, I hear thumping on the wood and deep laughing.

"Oh Harrison. What a relief, turns out you aren't a baby. So hardcore!" Nile bursts out laughing once again and as he walks to the dining room I hear the laughs still trailing behind and echoing down the corridor.

I can't help but feel guilty nonetheless. I shouldn't have shouted at him, well I guess he's used to attitude from his tributes but I'm not like the others. To be perfectly honest if it wasn't for the death part of the Games I'd actually enjoy going into the Arena. Although that does take away the entire point of the Hunger Games. Ah well, we can't always get what we want.

Now that Nile isn't on my back, I turn towards the wardrobe in my room and take out a soft light red top and some jeans. My sweaty training clothes are discarded on my bed as I fit my arms and legs through the holes in the new clothes. As I turn to the mirror I can't help but jump as a small lady with light skin and red lips appears from my en suite, she nods at me, picks up the clothes and hurries out the main door.

How did I not know she was in there? I've been in this room for the past couple of hours and an avox had been cleaning my bathroom or whatever it is they do the entire time. Those Avoxes sure are quiet.

I don't find it really fair that these people are forced to a life of silence with nothing they can do to stop that. Without a tongue it's impossible to speak unless you have some kind of advanced technology; which I'm sure the Capitol has, but a poor Avox will never get their hands on.

Knowing there's nothing I can do to help that woman and every other Avox, I quickly ruffle my fringe with my fingers and head on out of my bedroom.

Dimmed lights line either side of the corridor leading down to the dining area. Opposite my room is Maia's, after training day one we had a conversation in there. It's nice just talking about home and what life was like for the best of us. I remember showing her my token, the little crumpled photograph of me and some of the kids I helped. All were smiling, all were full of food. It's one of my proudest moments in life, just helping people and making a difference really adds to the energy to keep a smile on my face. Some days the negative thoughts, the will to just renounce my old way of life and start a new one of darkness and depression are quite strong, but just looking at these kids smiling faces, of little Tilly with her rosy red cheeks it reminds me that with a smile on my face I can do anything. That I am unique in Panem, that my way of life and the way I regard others and the way the government is run isn't bad. It's good, it's natural.

The talking in the dining room increases, I can hear shouting coming from Tabitha and as I expected the usual hardcore phrases from Nile finish up Tabitha's insults. Tabitha basically hates Nile, it's no surprise since those two have such conflicting personalities. Her reluctance to talk to anyone who is stupid in her opinion doesn't really help Maia either.

I don't think Maia is stupid, sure she seems to go off in her own world at times but when she's with it she's actually really intelligent. If I'm honest it was her idea that we ask Alexander to join us. But in Tabitha's eyes Maia is stupid. Her viewpoint on her therefore means she isn't really giving her advice. Unless you call 'stop acting like such a stupid airhead' advice. Somehow, for whatever reason Tabitha likes me though. I don't class myself as intelligent. I admit I was good in school but that's just because I wanted to make a name for myself and not be stuck in some underpaid profession. But she likes me and she definitely helps me more than she helps Maia.

I'd rather she spoke to Maia more than me, I want Maia to do well. She's been a good friend to me since we boarded the train. Her ability to just sit there and talk for hours and hours really helps. She's doesn't even get angry if you start droning on and on about yourself, she's a great listener. I hate the fact that she's joining me in the Arena. I know I don't deserve it, but she definitely doesn't.

Even with these depressing thoughts in mind I walk into the dining room with a smile on my face and take a seat next to Maia. She smiles at me and then resumes eating from her bowl of soup. Let me just tell you that for someone who is reasonably wealthy for a District person, the Capitol makes me look like one of the kids in the slums of the District. I didn't know what half the food was that I was served on the first night, even the table decoration and the way the glass shines is different to District Eight. It's beautiful, yet a good reminder that the Capitol is indeed above us all.

_But didn't I say on the reaping day that it's good the Capitol is here? Why do I keep contradicting myself?_

"How did training go Harrison?" Tabitha looks over at me with a smile on her face. Her cheeks are puffed out and bright red, I can tell that she's still angry with Nile. She's always angry with Nile but when she talks to me she's nice. Well, a mixture of nice and downright despicable.

"It was good thanks, we got two more people in our alliance."

"That's brilliant, sticking to our plan then. You and your district partner gathering together a large alliance." Maia tenses her shoulders next to me, I can feel the anger coursing through her. Tabitha usually refers to Maia as my district partner, she does use her name sometimes. But I know she likes doing this to annoy her.

"Well you did win the Games. Sticking to what you say is wise. Besides me and Maia like having a large alliance with us. It isn't all strategic, they're good people and they deserve people watching their backs."

"You don't make friends in the Games Harrison. Friends will just stab you in the back, friends would rather slit your throat then defend you against a pack of Careers. The only person you have looking out for you is yourself, I only suggested a large alliance so you seem stronger. As soon as the numbers go down ditch this airhead and those stupid friends of yours and win for yourself. You're capable, I know you can do it."

I don't usually see Maia get angry, she's told me she usually just remains quiet and waits for it too slowly go away. But not today. Her face goes bright red, the bowl of soup falls to the ground and shatters and as Tabitha starts laughing, Maia runs away down the corridor to her bedroom. Even as the door slams shut I can hear her tears.

"Not very hardcore, is it? Crying is such a weakness."

"For heavens sake Nile, take the so called hardcore attitude you think you have and shove it up your ass!" Tabitha screams into Nile's face. His ears go pink and I can't help but giggle under my breath. I silence myself when he notices my face. He looks to me then to Tabitha before going bright red and running away to the lift. The door opens onto the empty box and with a press of a button he disappears, shooting down to wherever it is he goes when Tabitha pisses him off.

"You better not try and lecture me Harrison. Those two deserve it."

"Maybe Nile. Not Maia, definitely not Maia!"

"Maybe, maybe not. But I want one of my tributes to win this year and I can't split my focus on two people. Therefore, I picked you so deal with it."

You know I can't help but admire Tabitha. Sure if I was a meaner person I would be hurling my bowl across the table at her. But she's strong, maybe not physically but her ability to use her own mind to shatter other people's is admirable. She's hated for sure ... but I like her. If there's one thing I can do during the Games is use my brain and if she won't help Maia then I'll just teach her all the stuff Tabitha tells me at a later date.

"What are you thinking?"

Her voice is dark, I can tell you that. It makes my smile feel out of place, especially when it's just us two.

"Just about the Games."

"Obviously." She rolls her eyes but doesn't walk away or anything like she would with other people. "What about the Games?"

"Doesn't matter."

There's a pause. An awkward pause between the two of us. I don't know whether she has the words ready to say but is waiting or she just doesn't know what to say next. But she's still here at the table, if she was done with me she'd be long gone.

But she finds the words and as usual, she just wants to know more about my thoughts.

"What do you think of the other tributes?"

I pause, do my best to recall everyone's name and face before answering.

"The Careers are just the same as always, there's a singer which is different but together they're just the same. Neon surprises me, I would have thought that maybe she would have joined our alliance, I'm not saying she's not capable but joining someone feels like the best choice but she turned us down-"

"Stupid girl. Just kill her in the Arena." Tabitha interrupts.

"James is different to say the least, I can't quite tell if he's a threat or not. Azura is difficult to understand. Whether he's just playing the whole cold act I can't quite tell. He's interesting. District Five doesn't really stand out, but to be honest those tributes are the ones to watch out for. The ordinary ones. District Six is the same but they're my good friends, District Seven is quite frightening. Fir is a career and the An-Wei girl is actually pretty impressive. Derak is just a normal guy, Rae is hard to understand, much like Azura. She's threatening, just by looking at the way she holds herself I can tell you that much. Alexander from Ten is just brilliant but his district partner doesn't really seem with it. Tommy and the Satey girl seem normal enough, so does Winter from Twelve but the Aamon guy is a bit like Rae and Azura. I don't know what to make of him."

"You've done your fair share of snooping around."

"It's not snooping, it's doing what's best and trying to understand the enemy."

"Now you're thinking more like a tribute rather than the posh happy snob from District Eight."

"Just because I'm rich does not make me posh and a snob!" I raise my voice at her but much like Nile she just laughs. Her shoulders bounce up and down in time with her chuckles but she immediately quiets when the lift dings. The metal doors slide open and instead of Nile someone completely unexpected walks through.

The blue hair is the first thing I notice. It's dazzling yet calm, much like I imagine the ocean would be. Tabitha tenses up at the sight of this boy, I'm a little worred as well. The pale blue cloth around his eyes is the most distinctive thing about him. I know who he is, the blind boy. Azura-Jay Dennis.

"Oceava!" His scream seems to stir something in Tabitha. She leaps up from her seat and before I can even yell at her to leave him alone she has him pinned up against the wall. However Tabitha didn't win because of her strength, it doesn't take long for Azura to knock her aside like a simple rag doll. She slumps to the floor for a second before moving into a standing position and staying two or so feet away from him.

"Where am I? Who the hell are you? If you were Oceava I wouldn't have been able to knock you aside so easily."

"I'm Tabitha you blind moron!" She literally spits this out at him. Azura lifts a pale hand to his cheek and wipes the few droplets from his skin.

"Tabitha. So I'm on the District Eight floor. I knew I must have pressed the wrong button."

"Well I suggest you better get back in there and scoot on back to your room and cry about how you aren't going to make it one second into the Games."

"You know Tabitha, you're well known for your intellect but I can't help but pity you. Your insults do nothing to me, you expect me to quiver before you and cry and run off sobbing. Well Tabitha you were the underdog, you were looked down upon because you are a weakling and yet you still won. I may not be able to see but I'll still beat each and every one of the tributes here. And then maybe I'll get to hear you apologise for this little conversation."

"Don't make me laugh. Harrison here will win, he has me as a mentor after all." Azura's head draws away from Tabitha's and he looks around the room. His head moves up and down before it rests on me, exactly where I am sitting. I don't know how he knows that I am sitting here, but he does. It's creepy to say the least.

"Ah yes Harrison Sigell. The boy that always has that smile on his face, I've heard a lot of people talk about that ridiculous smile of yours."

As always someone tries to insult my optimism and positivity. Just like he is with insults towards his inability to see, I am capable of shrugging of these comments.

"Good to see you Azura. Would you like a hand down to your room?"

"I'd rather let that idiotic Maia run me through with a spear. I have no need for an ignorant fool like you to guide me down to my room."

"How dare you? Harrison could easily take you down!"

It's nice to have Tabitha standing up for me, but her words are pointless. Azura doesn't seem to be bothered at all and you can tell just by looking at me that there's no way I could take him down. Azura may be blind but he has this cold confidence to him that makes him very much like a Career.

"Oh you make me laugh. How could someone who is so deluded to believe that Panem is good be able to take me down?" I've never heard Azura laugh since I first met him and I wish I hadn't. It's a cruel, deep laugh that sends shivers down my spine. He really will be a threat in the Arena.

"Azura, there's nothing wrong with trying to help others and bring a little positivity to life."

"I have nothing against you helping others, it's quite admirable but it's that positivity that really aggravates me. How can you seriously believe that the way Panem is run is just? You must be rich otherwise you really wouldn't believe such nonsense."

"Would you just get out before I force you out?" Tabitha shrieks before I can respond. Azura simply chuckles under his breath and with one hand in front of him he guides himself towards me. His hand wraps around the back of the chair opposite me and within seconds he's sitting down. The cloth is directly level with my own eyes.

"Tell me Harrison, do you really believe in this foolish girl's words? You really believe that you, a weak yet happy boy can defeat twenty three others who have probably been through much more than you have? Why else would you act the way you do? Your life must have been so simple."

"Maybe I don't believe I can do this. But I have faith in myself, faith in Maia and my other allies. Together we can take down anyone. I may not have the strength to kill someone myself, but one member of our alliance will win. Azura I don't want you to die, I don't want anyone to die but that's the way the Games work."

"I'm not an imbecile Harrison. I know only one can win. But you, Maia and whoever else is in your feeble alliance will not be able to hold their own against me, the Careers and the other tributes. Not everyone is strong, I'll give you that, but we aren't deluded like you and your little friends are. Grow up, face reality ... and die like a man." His voice is barely above a whisper, his words come out like a snake's hiss. Slowly his lips curl into a small smile. I can tell he knows I'm speechless: what can I say to that? I know that I'll probably die but I sincerely believe one member of our alliance will win. But Azura's confidence in what he says is daunting. Someone else could win, it's highly probable.

"Get out now blind boy." Tabitha's voice is barely above a whisper, her tone much like the hiss Azura just used.

"I am going. Next time I might purposely push the wrong button. It's quite entertaining wrecking someone from the inside out. Until the arena, Harrison." He nods his head before stumbling into the small lift. His fingers graze over the buttons and I can tell he's counting them as he goes inside his head. With a ding the doors shut and he goes shooting down. Hopefully to his floor, I don't want him to talk like this to anyone else.

"Are you alright, Harrison?" Tabitha's voice is actually quite a relief. In the space of five minutes Azura has really made me see things for real. Don't think that I won't remain my usual self. No, I plan to keep smiling, my belief that things are right in Panem will remain strong. I know not everything is the way it should be, but it's stable and that's the way it should be. Azura can't change the way I lead my life no matter what he says.

"Yes I'm fine. I won't let him get to me."

"Good. Forget what I said about that Neon girl. She'll pay later for not accepting you into your alliance. I want you to run that boy through, but first play his game. Torture his mind until he's a useless shell and begs for the sweet release of death. Then gladly fulfill his wishes with your sword."

I feel like there is much more to say between us but she smiles at me for the last time this evening before walking down the corridor to her own room. I'm not quite sure whether it's customary for mentors and escorts to sleep on their District's floor but Tabitha does. Right next to Maia. I know it's just to irritate her even further, if there's one thing Tabitha loves to do it's annoying people.

But she's been kind to me tonight. I will try and make Maia happy tomorrow morning, I'll do my best to make her forget about what was said to her tonight but for now I'll be thankful for Tabitha and her words. I'm not happy she's only assisting me, but if I can just one thing it's too make sure Maia is safe and also knows what to do.

Me and her are in this together. I'll protect her and I know she'll protect me. After all we have three other people to stand by us.

Azura is wrong.

One of us will win.


	22. Career Workings

**A/N- **Hey everyone, this chapter was supposed to be up on Friday but I had a friend come round and except for a few hours I completely ignored my laptop. But anyway I hope you enjoy this next one, I have just checked and the next chapter isn't in yet but I have PM'd the author and hopefully it will be in soon. Anyway enjoy this next one. :D

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**TWilkins A/N- **Hey guys- this chapter is going to be in past tense- as is any further chapters I write. I seriously cannot write in present tense- it is alien and scary… But yeah I cleared it up with the J-man and he said okay. xD- enjoy! The interaction with other tributes in the chapter has been confirmed by the appropriate author that corresponds to the tribute

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**Training Day Three**

**Zeo Radonix, District One Male**

_**TWilkins**_

* * *

I flopped back down on the soft bed, wiping my hand on the sheets to the left of me somewhere, not caring at all that the red coated people would have to deal with that later on, they seemed lower class. I took a few heavy breaths, trying to remove the tint of red that clearly stated what I had just done, not that I was at all ashamed about doing it. But if my escort knew about it she would have probably had an extremely taxing anaphylactic shock, which would have not been the best start to the day.

My eyes scanned the room slowly, taking in the surroundings of the luxury that even the district of luxury did not have, it was wrong really. One thing that the capitol had particularly overwhelmed me with was the view I had from the window; being that of a brilliant meadow in an open pasture like countryside, with the most beautiful lake I had seen in my life. We didn't have so many lakes in district one, we only had circles of water that people threw coins in. I really don't know why.

I get my breathing back to normal, deciding to get out of my bed, shuffling to the side that was not where I had wiped my hand, before I hoisted myself up from the comfort, looking at that meadow as I did so, it held a natural beauty that was seldom seen in district one, unless of course I looked into a mirror. I then took a glance around the room, not for any reason in particular, purely to procrastinate, knowing that I would not learn anything that I didn't already know from training.

The room was of a decent size, rather large actually, with a modern bed in the centre, fitted low down, close to the floor, in a way that would give old people difficulties getting up. That was when I realised that that must have been the reason that the reaping age was twelve to eighteen, because they were the only ages that the accommodation was suited for. I also don't think the chariots are easily accessible, which would have proven to be rather tricky for anybody with a walking frame, not to mention it could be a weapon in the arena.

I stood up finally, stretching, trying to get myself properly geared up for the day, whilst of course procrastinating against the thought of training. Finally I readied myself for the day, and wandered across the bedroom to the bathroom in all my glory, due to the fact I still found it utterly incomprehensible to sleep with any form of clothing on, although I was glad that I was practically hairless, with the satiny texture of the bed sheets, had I not been neatly trimmed downstairs, one movement to swift and I would have gone up in flames from the friction.

The bathroom that adjoined to my room was large, the bathtub was almost big enough to swim in, not that I knew how to swim, but still... I smiled, and stepped into the walk-in shower, where I turned on the cascade of water. The water was blissfully hot on my skin and I maintained the moment with absolute relish, loving the feeling of the warmth around my body. I blindly reached down to get some of the fabulous strawberry and lychee shampoo that I had expected to be neatly on the side, flailing about for it aimlessly, clouting my hand on the tiles on numerous occasions, before finally giving up.

I stepped out of the cascading stream of heat and power to look. There wasn't any shampoo in the shower, nothing that I could wash my hair with. Only a dirty rag and a bottle of something that looked like it might kill me, it had a bright orange skull on it. But then again, that could have meant head, but it still wasn't strawberry and lychee. Cursing violently, I glanced out of the cubical, the cold hitting me in the face like a charging escort, and not the capital kind.

After a few moments in limbo I noticed it on the shelf on the other side of the room, placed precariously as if it wanted me to get cold. I frowned, looking at it as if it would suddenly jump to me, though I knew it wouldn't, so in the end it won the one sided battle and I wandered over to it, ignoring the cold for a time. I gripped the bottle in an iron grip once it was within reach, ensuring that it would not slip from my damp hands, as I turned and walked back to the enclosed area, gleefully striding back into the force of the torrent and squirting the bottle of shampoo hard, releasing a powerful squirt of it into the palm of my hand, where I rubbed it vigorously into my hair.

My shower took a total of about a half hour, the main concentration of it being making sure my body was totally clean and smelling pristine, whilst also trying to read the small print on the back of the bottle, though I couldn't, it was far too small. When I finally decided that my body was clean enough for career standards, though I really didn't need to spend such effort making myself smell nice, the other career's certainly didn't.

Silver was fine enough, neither foul smelling or beautifully fragrant. That was about as good as they got. Kaya, the flame haired girl, always smelt faintly of smoke, though it was faint, it was still there. She smelt like a mild bonfire. Then the boy from two, Talon, who was a very handsome boy in his own right, with the added bonus of being good at wielding a sword adding some extra points in my eyes, but then there was the unfortunate scent that trailed him around. Standing too close to him put you in danger of the foulness of his body odour, though, that was nothing when compared with some of the stenches from the outlying districts; the boy from eleven was positively medieval.

Though the girl from four, I was unsure whether it was simply an awkward time of the month for the games or she had just fallen into the sea one too many times, but she constantly stank of fish. Fish had a rather harsh, unyielding smell, something that the district of luxury did not have lingering the streets on little wooden carts, the only street vendors we had sold perfumes, although they were usually ominous ones, which I never bought.

Then there was the district seven boy that was always milling around near us. He was ghastly. I always caught a whiff of dead plant whenever he walked by, it was rather foul on my sinuses, it made my eyes water a little whenever he got too close, which wasn't often as he was always swinging his axe around to show off. I didn't need to do anything to show off, I was naturally like that. I had also picked up on the little detail that made him marginally less attractive than he could have been; his nose was a little too large for his face. Call me picky, but the Victors were always handsome, other than Crash…

I rolled my eyes then, remembering that Crash was outside my door, eating with that ludicrously dressed escort and Sliver, I had been last out of my room every day so far, but that was likely due to my relaxation techniques. It would not be good to remain so stressed in such an environment; it would also give me wrinkles.

I padded up to my large chest of draws, filled with various garments that were usable by myself for the night times, though during the day I had to wear a god-awful jumpsuit with a large number one on the shoulder. I tried not to think about it as I slipped into it and prepared myself to leave the confines of my room.

"Last up. Again." Crash grunted the second I opened the door to the main room, making me roll my eyes as I tiptoed up to the table and perched myself up on a large lime coloured chair, taking a delicate little pastry and placing it onto my plate, it being inversely proportionally to the mountain of food that Crash had. It about summed us up as brothers. He preferred the large greasy sausages and the thick fatty pieces of bacon to the smaller, more elegant, sugary delights.

"Yes well I actually wash Crash, you should try it too sometime lest somebody think you are from an outlying district." I chirped back, keeping a mock happy tone of voice on to ensure I irritated him as much as I could, before taking my knife and fork to eat the delicate little piece of food that I could easily fell in a single bite.

He grumbled something incoherent, though that was not uncommon for him, he generally did have the vocabulary of an outlier. One of the filthy ones from twelve at that. I cringed violently at the thought of one of those beings. I didn't understand how they didn't vomit at their own stench, though it was likely that they were used to it… It wouldn't be so daft to doubt that they actually were absent of washing amenities.

* * *

It was driving me insane slowly. The taunts that plagued me as I stood in the training hall, twenty three other tributes and an army of peacekeepers with me, yet I was continually being taunted. It thought it was untouchable, it believed that I couldn't do anything about the wordless taunts that it was branding me with. The unseen humiliation it was causing me that would slowly but surely eat away at my soul. It was devouring me as sure as the most deadly poison.

I adjusted the knife again to observe the stray hair that had grown on my chin, the glint of the light on the knife almost blinding another tribute. I had shaved only the day before and one single black hair had grown faster than all of the others, emerging through my skin in the most horrifying way possible. It was an abomination, a fiend, a demon that blemished my perfect skin. In some ways, facial hair had too much power.

I used my free hand to adjust the skin on my chin as far as it could go, giving me the perfect view of the evil beast that was glaring at me in angst. It thought it had won because I had no razor, but it was wrong.

I reached down to the small water container at my feet, dipping my fingers inside before bringing them up to my face and moistening the area of my jaw that held the obscenity. I followed suit with the knife, trusting my judgement on the location of the hair, before I rapidly cut it forward. I immediately felt up at my chin, the pads of my fingers gliding over skin that was no longer burdened by the devilish hair. I had won.

I smirked proudly, looking over at the other careers that were talking about a metre and a half away, not caring to involve myself in the typical 'tactics' conversation, preferring to just mind my own business and be impulsive when it comes to the arena. I was planning on simply following the others anyway.

I caught the unmistakable sound of a giggle to my left and I casually rolled my head in the direction of the noise. When my eyes caught the source of the laughter, I caught two simple things. That they were looking at me, and that I saw the number twelve on one of their suits.

I chuckled softly to myself, looking down at the floor before facing them fully, swinging my knife holding arm out in a way that made them flinch, though the knife was still in my hand. I would never have thrown a knife anyway. If I wanted to hit I would miss and if I wanted to miss I would hit. That was on the simple account of my inaccuracy, I preferred weapons that you swung, hit and killed with. The suspense of wondering whether my arrow or knife killed someone would be too much.

The group flinched and ducked down for a second, before looking at me and averting their eyes, after a few deathly cold stares.

"So the outliers are forming alliances now." I breathed to myself, tossing the blade to the side and walking back to the other careers with purpose. "The next thing you know dogs will be owning humans." I breathed, before I nodded to myself in the knowledge that my joke was humorous enough, before I pitched it to the other careers.

"So the outliers are forming alliances now, the next thing you know dogs will be owning humans." I chuckled, bringing a few cold smiles and smirks from my so called friends. "No offence jungle boy." I added icily, looking at the boy from seven with his big freckly nose.

It was almost unnoticeable, but I noticed the muscles in his jaw quiver, his fists balling up tightly as his mouth opened, before shutting again promptly. His original choice of speech was replaced with… "None taken." In a relatively kind tone, though it held distinct undertones of venom and iciness. This fruitcake was defiantly an interesting character, I for one didn't trust him.

Trust was something that was a little odd in this situation, by rights I shouldn't trust any of them. I knew how it worked, once we got to the final few we all turn against each other and then kill each other, or fall of a cliff like the district four girl from last year. I didn't really like Kaya, Talon or Oceava, and Jungle boy was a little too outlying for me, but I suspected I could tolerate them all if I needed to.

Silver was a different matter, I knew that girl well. We were the same age, both of us eighteen, older than the others in our alliance. We started at the training academy at the same time, though she had tutors so she didn't see me so much. I trusted her enough to ask her things that I wasn't sure about, I trusted her not to stab me through the heart when I slept. She was honourable. I hoped.

* * *

I couldn't stop looking at the boy. He baffled me. He was from district four, so naturally, he should have been in the alliance with us, and I couldn't tell why he wasn't. I also didn't understand why he had a sash around his head, covering his eyes, whilst he was trying to fight with a trainer in the hand to hand station. I would have wagered that he was looking for a challenge, but he always wore it. I couldn't believe that anyone would want that much of a challenge.

I wandered softly over to Silver, who was throwing spears at mannequins, the silver glinting of the metal sending dancing spectrums of light over the room. I needed to try and shed some more light on the boy from four.

"Hey. Are you okay?" I asked her when I was close enough, which was pretty close considering how loud the room actually was, especially with the animalistic grunts from Jungle boy in the adjacent station.

"What do you want Zeo?" She asked swiftly in return, not even bothering to face me, simply tossing another spear, which again hit perfectly, had it been a real person then they would have been dead.

"… Okay. Well I was wondering why the boy from four wears a thing around his head, surely he can't see…" I started, before the girl interrupted me, picking up yet another glinting spear and throwing it perfectly towards the next mannequin.

"You really are stupid… He is blind Zeo." She informed me, though the first comment was meant in a jesting manner, I hoped, because I definitely wasn't stupid. I was smart enough to cheat all of the important tests at school.

"Blind… So he can't see?" I asked softly, almost mystified that he couldn't see, it must have been pretty hard for him to choose his shampoo, not knowing where it was and all.

"Yeah that is generally the definition." She returned bluntly, throwing yet another spear and getting yet another perfect hit.

"So why isn't he in our alliance, because he can't see?" I quizzed a rather irritated Silver, who finally turned to me.

"I'll speak to him later. And by the way Zeo, if I hadn't seen you training I would be kicking you out of the careers right now, so why don't you shut the hell up and go show off to some outliers?" She commanded, looking at me as if I were an outlier myself.

"You know you love me." I mumbled coyly, pouting in a way that made her sigh and turn away from me, grabbing another spear. "I didn't even need my puppy dog eyes." I giggled as I walked away, a sentence totally ignored by her; she clearly had mannequins that needed spearing.

I turned my attention back to the boy from four, the blind boy from four, in utter curiosity. He wouldn't be able to get far on his own, surely he would walk into things… Or maybe off of things. I pouted in annoyance as I watched the boy wander away from the station, very slowly, stopping every couple of steps and standing silent, before moving away in a slightly different direction. I decided that it was time to make my move.

I strutted towards him, the rubber soled shoes making virtually no noise on the cold floor, before I circled around him from behind. He thrashed his head towards the direction where I had been which impressed me somewhat, knowing he could hear me when I made virtually no noise.

I circled around him like a shark attempting to box-in a group of fish, which was an appropriate metaphor for someone from the fish district. I scanned his body with eagle eyed interest to try and work out whether he was worth a place in the careers; he could be useful for listening out at night when eyes aren't helpful anyway.

His body was very average, other than his height, which was a little shorter than was natural for his age. It was a little muscled but not enough to be intimidating, only enough for the well trained eye to realise he could be pretty strong. My mind kept quizzing at why he was in the games. Why had he volunteered when the chances of him winning were so slim?

I looked at his face, though it was the back of his head for the moment as I continued circling him, slow enough to take in details, but fast enough to stop him punching me. His hair baffled me, the odd colour of it being foreign to anywhere outside of the capitol. Who dyed their hair blue?

Suddenly my train of thought was shattered by a hand lashing out and catching on the top of my jumpsuit at the area that I would call a collar. It was impressive how he knew where I was so easily. I lifted my hand up to his, wrapping my fingers around it and squeezing, knowing he wouldn't put up a big scene in front of the peacekeepers.

I added a little more pressure to his hand, before he finally released the material of my suit, obviously not wanting the pain to continue any longer when it could be so easily avoided. I lightened my grip, before smirking and placing a soft, chaste kiss on his knuckles, which in my eyes more than made up for hurting them so.

He obviously disagreed, snatching his hand away from me in a comical fashion, wiping it on his own jumpsuit in a manner which was juvenile, but more importantly, offensive. He clearly didn't know who I was.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, not in the harsh, violent tone that I had expected to emerge from his mouth, but in a more venomous one, one which I myself was usually the one using.

"Zeo Radonix, District one, heartthrob and singer. I'd offer my hand to you, but you wouldn't be able to see it so let's just forget the handshake shall we?" I returned, in my own level of venom that I believe caught him off guard. I guessed people didn't dig at his blindness very often, it was a fairly low blow but it was essential in ensuring I had his attention.

"Oh yes, the alleged singer. Well I don't care what anyone else things about you, because I know what you really are." He spat in return, still keeping the tone that was cold enough to freeze a small fire and douse any chance of retaliation, from an outlier, however for myself it was just enough to peak my interest.

"Well do say, don't hold us in suspense, I'm trembling with anticipation. I just thought I'd let you know because you can't see it." I shot back in defiance, maybe taking things a little too personal, but I was curious on how he thought he had sussed me.

"You're a mindless killing machine, nothing more. You aim for a simple false glory and you use it to justify your twisted actions that will bring death to people who are innocent. You are a coward and a cheat, hiding behind your music as a way of pretending you are something greater than what you are, a killer."

I was a little taken aback by this cold statement, this summery of what he assumed I was like, though he was wrong. It was certainly interesting to hear this from someone. I was glad he couldn't see my immediate reaction, my body language couldn't give away my weakness.

"I appreciate all the thought, I hope you didn't strain your pretty little head trying to find the best stereotype of my district you could, but you are wrong." I informed him, our conversation dipping slightly into a grey area of all the conversational topics that there were.

"Really? What other reason is there that could possibly be the motive for your volunteering into this game of murder." He asked now, with the same cold tone of voice, though this time laced with disbelief and curiosity, two emotions often found hand in hand.

"To prove that I am better than my brother. That I know what I am doing and that I deserve as much attention as he." I revealed, though dialling down on the fact that I had all the attention to begin with and wanted it all back, not wanting to prove his arsehole stereotype correct.

A pang of emotion flittered across his lips as the sound of scratching made me look down, bringing the sight of blood to my eyes. I looked at the way his nails dug into his skin, when I didn't think that my comment was anything to force him to do something like that, unless that was the same reason he was here…

"Stop scratching, people will think you are an outlier with fleas." I commented, though in truth I wanted him to stop because I was feeling uncomfortable, I had no idea why anyone would cause harm to themselves, even Crash hadn't when I was the favourite. He did withdraw the hands, shakily, and I wondered if he actually knew how much damage he had done to himself, the self-harm thing was clearly a hobby.

"Look at what you're doing to yourself… Can't you see that you are ruining your skin." I mumbled, trying to take the icy edge from my voice, taking a quick scan around to check whether we were being eavesdropped or not, to which I smiled at the knowledge that we weren't, though I did need to send some death stares at the boys from both nine and eleven, who were both a little too close for my liking.

"No." The boy spat, looking at the floor, when I realised that if he really felt uncomfortable he would have moved away by now, though then again he was in danger of walking into a weapon rack.

"What do you… Oh yeah… Sorry I forgot." I mumbled sheepishly in realisation of his 'condition', I was a little blonde to forget something so clear and in my face as that.

"Why do you persist on bothering me you murderer? Go and annoy someone else and leave me alone?" He commanded, though still not making any move to leave me, instead expecting me to do so.

"You're certainly an interesting one…" I mumbled, gently reaching out to touch his cheek, again watching him flinch violently from my touch. I smiled as I gently walked around him, this time not seeing him make any form of movement to follow my movements.

I leant a little closer to him, my lips getting close enough to his ear so that nobody else could possibly hear what I was about to say. "Y'know I could get you in the careers with me, for a price…"

"I don't want to be in the careers. And I certainly don't want to do anything you ask of me." He icily returned, his icy tone now starting to grate on my nerves, I wasn't someone who usually got a no.

"You don't know what you're missing, I'm a very pretty boy. Blonde…" I begin, trying to make him reconsider my offer, mainly because he was the only tribute so far that I had spoken too who could offer a good conversation, even if the topic was drifting into a morally grey area.

"Spritz…" He breathed, so softly I could barely hear him, though it didn't matter so much, I had no idea what a Spritz was. "You careers are all the same, cold and manipulative. I don't know how you know but you need to forget it!" He spat, louder than before, but still quiet enough that nobody else heard, other than maybe the boy from Eleven, but I had already decided to gut him on day one. "I already belong to some-someone." He said afterwards, though now the icy tone was melting, it was becoming one laced with sorrow and regret. I heard a sob come from his mouth this time, and again I had taken it too far. But again, I did not know why. What I did know however was that it was time to leave the boy alone.

I turned away from him, taking a few steps away when I heard him mutter something. It was faint, I didn't catch it. But he said something. I shot a glance around, to look at the strange boy once again, but he was already back to his shuffling movements, wandering to find a new station, once again pausing every few seconds to get his bearings. I sighed, before turning towards the spear station, needing to show off again to make myself feel better. I had to use a spear to fight here, they didn't had any staves to use in the training centre. Maybe it was a bad idea to use one of the curtain rails from the training centre for my weapon after all. Regardless it was still a relatively potent weapon. I sighed, moving off to show everyone exactly how deadly I could be.

* * *

I chuckled to myself as I practiced the words to my song once again, getting the gore aspect of it a little higher in order to freak out the annoying tributes who were constantly around me.

I had been hitting things with my spear for a while, showing everyone that i was a killer, but it got boring. It also worked up a sweat which was definitely unpleasant, so I decided that a rest was obviously the best course of action, also allowing me a chance to write another song. I already had one that I was going to sing in the interview, but I wanted one to put people off, and I definitely now had it.

It was the girl from three, who kept looking at me, her stupid little form always in the shadows and peering out at me like some sort of backwards paedophile, or maybe a young pervert.

The boys from nine and eleven were also getting on my nerves, giving me a look that either was telling me that they hated me, or they thought about me at times of loneliness… Either way I found it disturbing.

The boy from eight was also the most ridiculous person I had ever met; he was smiling at me like a total paedophile. He hadn't spoken to me yet, but I had the horrible feeling he was going to… Him and his outlier germs…

I noticed the girl from nine move too close to me, her eyes flickering over my form as if she viewed me as some pathetic creature. It was vile. Not to mention she worked in the district of grain. Grain! It was practically the most basic thing you could do. They didn't even do anything with it. They could have been the bread district if they weren't so lazy and outlier like. I didn't blame the capitol for not wanting to treat them good.

I pranced over to the obstacle course, jumping up to the highest point and taking some breathing exercises. I knew everyone could see me, especially nine, who was right in front of me, scowling that I had gotten to the course before she, before I wet my lips with my tongue, and started to sing.

_"I threw the knife 'cos you smell,_

_I sent your partner to hell,_

_You didn't look very well,_

_But I'll kill you anyway."_

I began, smiling as I gained the attention of most of the room, save for Silver. I knew I had done a good job, because flame girl actually looked up from the fire she was playing with, paying attention to me as the perfectly thought through lyrics drifted off of my lips.

_"I'll put a knife through your tit,_

_I'll tear your body to bits,_

_You'll probably die from this,_

_But I'd kill you anyway."_

I continued, my eyes dancing through my audience, making me smile as I noticed the girl from six frown at the use of my lyrics, which some may call crude, personally I called it genius. A masterpiece that would go down in history as the best intimidating song ever.

_"Oh, your eyes are closing,_

_Look, your blood is flowing,_

_Your heart's stopped its beating,_

_Face it this is the hunger games!"_

I started to swing my hips to the music that was running through my head, suddenly forgetting that I had an audience to put off, just wanting to get invigorated and energetic for the chorus.

_"Hey, I can see you,_

_You look quite crazy,_

_I won't come near you,_

_You might have rabies!_

_It's such a grim sight,_

_You when you're living,_

_But I won't touch you,_

_You might have rabies!"_

An explosion of laughter from flame girl knocked my concentration off, making me burst out laughing myself at the sheer looks of horror on some of the tributes faces, especially some of the outliers, their faces were priceless.

I grinned and gave a curt bow, walking past the wannabe career from nine, who was sneering at me, didn't she know looks couldn't actually kill? That it was just an expression?

The overly happy paedophile smile guy from eight, who, as per usual, bore the creepy smile he always had.

Jungle boy was giving me an odd look, something between blatant lust and obvious want, I think… One could never be sure with the facial expressions of an outlier, the face he was pulling could have meant lust, jealousy, annoyance, or general constipation. I guessed the first one was the most likely. Who didn't look at a heartthrob like me with anything other than lust?

The girl from three, pervert girl, was looking at me with a look that I couldn't see, nor care about. She was thirteen years old for goodness sake, she probably hadn't hit puberty yet. I knew that she would never win, how would she kill anyone? Watch them to death?

I sighed as I noticed Silver looking at me with a look that told me I was in trouble. I skipped over to her, watching her unfaltering gaze hit me like a collection of spears.

"Zeo, what did I say?" She asked, making me smile, she was so forgetful sometimes.

"You told me to show off to outliers." I smiled, happy that I was able to help her apparent amnesia in some manner, though I didn't understand why she face-palmed.

"How is singing showing off to tributes!" She asked, her tone calm, but obviously irritated and generally evil.

"Because they can't sing..." She opened her mouth to speak, before I yelled a good point out, eager not to get yelled at anymore… I was an eighteen year old boy for goodness sake, she wasn't my mother, but then again, she was terrifying.

"And! They know that we are carrying out the threats later!" I yelped, which seemed to please her for a moment, before she scowled. This girl was impossible.

"…Zeo. Just go and stab something…"


	23. Playing With Fire

**A-N-** Hey everyone, sorry this took a while. This is another chapter that is not being written by its author, yes I know this has happened a lot, these Capitol chapters haven't gone to plan. But nonetheless I hope you like it. NinjaNakkiOfCabin11 was supposed to write it but I haven't heard from her in a while, so enjoy Cashmere67's writing, it is brilliant :D

* * *

**Evening of Training Day Three**

**Kaya Andora, District Two Female**

**_Written by Cashmere67, submitted by i-am-foxface_**

* * *

Training should only be required for people who lack in survival and fighting skills. People like me should be allowed to do what we want during our own leisure. I have excelled in several training stations: The Gauntlet, the ropes course, swords, and fire making.

_Especially _the fire making station. I reluctantly attend the training with intentions to only stay at the fire making station. No one bothers coming over to the station while I'm there; not even the training assistants. I know what I am doing and if anyone needs any help, I'll _gladly _enlighten them on the element of fire.

There is a perfect recipe for success – Fire, violence, and blood.

Fire is a powerful and dangerous element. There is the beneficial fire, but then there is the hindering fire – my forte. The scent of newly burned ash, as well as the aroma of the smoke, inspires me. It almost puts me in a trance in which there must be bloodshed and fire to bring me back to reality. I get an adrenaline rush that cannot be ceased. The feeling of smoke entering your nostrils and then circulating through your body is astonishing.

I can almost relate to fire. Fire can be helpful at times, but if you don't know what you are ending, it can turn on you in a second and ultimately kill you. Fire has no borders and restrictions; it can travel to wherever it pleases and it is not easy to put out. It will destroy anything in its path until it is destroyed.

Fire will burn and illuminate no matter what. And so will I.

Violence is also a pleasant thought. Violence symbolizes destruction and horror. Violence and fire are nearly intertwined, don't you agree? The satisfaction of seeing a corpse burning into ashes will be eternal. In some cases, violence can represent victory – which will most certainly be in my future.

How you decide to slaughter your prey will represent your possessed degree of strength. Personally, I will murder them the most violent way possible; tying them to a tree and then burning them alive.

I scoff at the image of a screeching child being burned alive.

The final ingredient for the recipe of success is blood.

Blood is simple. But it represents much more than just the liquid that circulates in our bodies – it is red, just like fire.

Everything ties back to fire in one way or another.

Red is associated with danger, strength, power, determination, as well as desire. These words all contribute to my personality.

Without blood, we would not survive. Isn't that the point of the Hunger Games? I'll readily aid in the slaughtering of victims. I can nearly feel the blood on my fingers; the texture is silky smooth and the scent is extremely pleasing.

Mark my words: blood will be spilled by the hands of Kaya Andora. I will put on a truly impressive show for the Capitol.

I saunter over to my window and notice the bright neon lights illuminating the streets of the Capitol. My room, on the other hand, is a dull color – pitch black.

Someone call the Peacekeepers on me, I'm about to do something _crazy_.

I ring a bell, indicating I require assistance from an avox. The avox appears at my door with a tray in her hand that is full of different foods and beverages.

"Candles," I say in a sadistic tone.

The avox stays at the door and raises an eyebrow. How hard is to understand the world candles?

I walk over to my draw and take out the box of matches. "Candles."

The avox complies with my demand and returns with a box full of candles; some scented, some not.

I open the box and begin strategically placing the candles around my room. I must place some near the windows, doors, and on the ground. Smoke must be present in all corners of the room, or else I won't be fully satisfied.

When I finish allocating the candles, I light a match. I bring the lit match close to my nose and the flame scorches the tip of my nose.

I giggle and wipe the burned skin off of my nose.

I prance around the room, lighting every candle I pass by. I fall back on the bed while the candles are still emitting smoke from the wicks. I throw my arm to the side and it knocks something off of my bed – Fathead's collar.

The collar is a strip of red leather adorned with orange flame designs. There are only a few things left that remind me of home, but they don't mean much anymore. I'm glad I'm here; this is where I will be able to show off my abilities. Even if I don't return home, I know I will have accomplished something. Whether it's a 'Kaya Andora' fan club full of dare-devils like myself, or even a newspaper article.

A tall, muscular figure with shoulder length brown hair appears at the door, and the figure's dark blue eyes are barely visible.

"Oh Kaya, always messing around with fire aren't you?"

I instantly recognize the voice as mentor, Rouge.

"Yes," I giggle, "Don't you just love the smell?"

"I don't! You're stinking up the whole place!" Talon shouts from the other room.

Rouge shuts the door and sits down on the bed next to me. She grabs my hair and pulls me up until I am sitting with my back straight.

"Now that training is over, I want to know what information you have compiled about each tribute," Rouge stays sternly, but with a curious tone in her voice.

"Well, to be honest, they are nothing special," I begin to speak, but she interrupts me.

"Tell me everything, Kaya," Her voice becomes deep and probably has the urge to strangle me.

"Calm yourself, I'm getting to it." I have to think of the other tributes for a second.

Rouge just rolls her eyes and begins playing with her nails.

"There is Silver and Zeo from District 1. Silver is the nominated leader of the Career alliance-"

"Why weren't you?" Rouge becomes infuriated.

I ignore her remark, "She's one of the only people I should be careful of. Zeo, on the other hand, isn't anything special. He's a little, you know, foolish."

"What about Talon? What do you think of him?" Rouge insists.

I shrug, "He's my District partner. That's really all I deem him as. He might be strong, but I know I can take him on."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Kaya. Now, District Three."

"Neon and James," I laugh at just bringing up their names.

"Is something wrong?"

"They're weak. Extremely weak. There's nothing else to say about them. Then there is Oceava and Azura-Jay."

"Is District Four a part of the Career alliance this year? They don't seem too impressive," Rouge blows out the candle next to her.

"Oceava is, but Azura-Jay isn't it. He is blind, so he wouldn't do too much for our alliance," I grab the candle she just blew out and light it up again.

She nods, "Nice choice. How about District Five?"

I can barely remember the names from this District. "Uh, I'm not sure. I think the girl is called Alice? But I have no idea what the boy is called."

"Oh? So they're not notable?"

I smirk, "Nope. I only know the boy from District Six because he got into an argument with Silver. He's Dale. Once again, nothing special."

"Why are you smiling? How is this funny?" Rouge punches her fist into the pillow.

"I am amused by the argument Silver and Dale had. Dale really doesn't know what he got himself into."

Rouge rolls her eyes, "District Seven. The boy, what's the deal with him? And monkey-girl."

I laugh at her name for the girl. "Monkey-girl is whatever, but Fir, the male, is one to watch out for. He can throw an axe pretty well."

"Can throwing an axe help you win?" Rouge inquires.

"Yes," I stutter, "I think so."

"Thus, you can't let that happen, Kaya. Talon has told me a few things about Mr. Optimism, but what about the young girl?"

"The girl is young, which means she probably can't do much. The boy is deluded about reality, so I can't wait until one of us gives him a reality check," I say callously.

"I know District Nine is interesting, don't you agree?" Rouge widens her eyes.

"Well, yes, for the most part. The boy isn't notable, but Rae, the female, is. She's mysterious and I really can't say much more about her," I light another candle.

Rouge waves her hand in front of her face, "Keep an eye on her, Kaya. What about District 10?"

"The female's name might be Serena? I'm not sure, but I know the boy's name – it's Alexander. Unfortunately, I think he might do well in the games, but I won't let that happen, Rouge," I reassure her.

She smiles, "Very well. How do you feel about District 11?"

I remain quiet for a second because I can't remember a thing about District 11. "Weak? I guess. If I can't remember them they're not worth my time."

She stands up and walks to the door, "Finally, District 12. Any opinions?"

"Don't worry, Rouge, they're nothing special either. Now, can I get some rest?" I shoo her away with my hand.

Rouge closes the door and I wrap myself up in blankets. The candle's smell and smoke soothe me and I begin to drift off into sleep.

I would never tell Rouge about my true thoughts on each tribute. Why? It's simple. She'd tear me apart and then force me to tell her that I won't be scared. I won't even tell Talon. He'd go off and tell everyone else that I am intimidated by a few tributes. Specifically Silver, Talon, Fir, and Rae.

Silver, the Career leader, is definitely a threat. She knows what she's capable of and will use it to her advantage. Silver might be arrogant, but she backs it up. I know I should be on her good side, unlike Zeo. I listen to her and do whatever she asks me to do. When the time comes, I know who she'll betray, and that won't be me – hopefully. Besides, the alliance has several people in it. She'd go for the weaker ones first like Oceava. I am most certainly not the weakest one in the alliance.

I deem Talon as someone I should look out for, but it's complicated. I shouldn't be scared of him, but I should at the same time. He's physically strong and can hold his own, but that's it. He isn't the sharpest tool in the shed and usually does what he wants. I don't think he'd kill me anyway because we're District partners. That has to mean something, right?

Then there's Fir. He might only be 15 years old, but he is definitely not someone you would want to meet in a dark alley. I have seen him throw an axe. I know what he can do. I tend to stay away from him when the Careers are together only because I don't want to interact with him. The only time we have spoken was on the first day of training because we were introducing ourselves. I consider him the second strongest in the Career alliance – after Silver, that is.

Rae, the District Nine female, is like no other tribute. Her not having a last name says something about her. She might be quiet, but when you get her to speak, she's extremely impudent and sarcastic. I'm surprised she didn't end up joining the Careers. She seems like one, but who knows. Her personality might only be a façade and in reality she might be a weakling. But for now, I will stay away from her and do my best to kill her quickly.

I sit up for a second and move two candles behind my head. I lie back down and nestle my head into the pillow.

The words repeat in my mind: Fire, violence, blood. Fire, violence, blood. Fire, violence, blood.

* * *

_I am resting on a plush sofa with a silk blanket enveloped around me. In front of me there are a few paintings – a campfire, a forest fire, fireworks, among many more. _

_The scent of fire becomes stronger and stronger, and that's when I realize it – there's a lit fireplace behind me. __The flame is becoming bigger and more powerful. Soon enough, the flame begins crawling up the wall surrounding the fireplace._

_I try to unravel myself from the blanket, but I'm stuck. I shift on the couch in attempts to escape from the blanket's grip, but it's no use._

_The fire has made its way to the couch and it is very slowly making its way to the blanket. I laugh uncontrollably._

_My body begins to burn, but in a satisfactory manner. I sit up on the couch and stare directly at the pictures in front of me. _

_This is only the start._

* * *

I feel someone pushing me and I reluctantly open my eyes. There's Talon, Rouge, Chase, and Glow, my escort, hovering above me.

"Kaya, wake up!" Talon pushes me off of the bed.

I rub my head, "What?"

"These candles need to be blown out. Right now," Rouge says agitated.

"You're more than capable of blowing them out. You just ruined my perfect dream!" I shout.

Rouge, Chase, and Glow all exit the room, but Talon stays.

"Hi," he sits down on the edge of my bed.

"Hi Talon," I say, attempting to sound nice.

"I can't fall asleep. I'm too nervous for tomorrow and the private sessions."

I shrug, "I'm sure you'll do fine, Talon."

"You too, Kaya. If I don't see a '8' above your name, you're out of the alliance," Talon mocks Silver and her requirements.

I laugh heartily, "You better not get the same score as Silver, unless you want her to kill you in the Bloodbath."

He sticks out his tongue, "We'll see."

I continue laughing, "Let's hope for the best."

"Hm, what were you dreaming about?" He questions.

I smile, "Fire."

He laughs, "I'm not surprised. What about?"

"It's hard to explain. If you knew the actual meaning of dreams regarding fire you would understand."

He backs away slowly, "You're right, I wouldn't understand. You should try to go back to bed; you might be able to get that dream back."

Talon leaves the room and I can hear him mumble 'Freak' on the way out.

No one truly understands the concept and symbolism of fire. Not even myself. I still have a lot to learn.

In simple terms, dreaming of fire means destruction, passion, transformation, and anger. It may suggest that something old is passing and something new is entering your life.

If the fire is under control, it is a metaphor of your own internal fire and inner transformation. If the fire is encircling you, then it signifies your bond to something.

Dreaming about fire represents your drive, motivation, and energy. The dream may even be warning you about danger and risky activities.

In my case, I was dreaming about being burned alive. This means that my temper is getting out of control.

Remember: Fire, violence, and blood create the perfect recipe for success.


	24. Power Of Nine

**A/N- **Yep, I am updating again in such a short time, just because of the lack of updates I thought I would post another chapter up to keep it all going.

Hope you enjoy this next one, and leave those reviews ;)

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**Private Gamemaker Sessions**

**Rae, District Nine Female**

_**ImmyRose**_

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The Capitol is driving me insane. And the Hunger Games haven't even started yet.

Well, I don't mean that literally but I should probably explain. Everybody is acquainted with the fanfare that the Hunger Games showers itself in before we start killing off each other. The chariot rides, the training scores and the interviews. A fanfare that existed only to rub it in the districts' faces that the Capitol were in control. That the Capitol could defeat the rebels if the remnants of the rebellion dared to rise up again. At least, that was what I had originally thought.

Now I was wondering if they gave us all of this 'luxury' to make us more likely to go insane in the arena. Think about it, we are given the finest food possible, clothed in the softest silks and velvets and subjected to the adoration of the crowds for a whole week. Followed up by you being shoved into the arena where you have to scavenge for food that's not even edible half the time and be forced to wear the same clothes for days as they slowly turn to rags. And you wouldn't be able to hear them but you knew that the only thing that the Capitol would cheer for was when a tribute died. Being submerged in luxury and then dumped into conditions not fit for animals was definitely not the smartest idea for survival in that case. Presumably, it took time to adjust to such a dramatic change in living standards, although I was used to the latter and therefore refused to indulge myself in the typical life of a Capitolite. It was obviously another tool used to weaken us, not like they really needed to try at that or anything.

Well anyway, I had managed to survive fifteen or so years without needing to scoff myself on food like a mouse and I didn't see any reason to ruin one of the advantages I had over the other tributes.

"Silver Hartford,"

Yes, I would need every advantage I could get to defeat a tribute such as her. I watch indifferently as the curly-haired girl tossed her hair back confidently before strutting arrogantly over. There was a certain elegance to her walk, a grace to her movement that told me everything I needed to know about her alliance. Although this came as no surprise to me. The Careers seemed to consist of the tributes from Districts One, Two and Four, although this year had a few exceptions to this rule. The District Seven boy was tagging along with them, presumably because of his ability with an axe. It was the lumber district after all so I was guessing that he knew how to handle one.

On the up side, the Career pack didn't have a extra member to the standard number of six Careers since the Four boy hadn't managed to get in. It was pretty obvious why; what person would willingly ally with a person who stumbled around with a scarf over his eyes? The guy was blind but that scarf alerted even the most unobservant tributes to that fact. Of course, he did come from District Four and I'm sure that he's received training, same as every other tribute from a Career district. Added to the fact that he probably had superior hearing to me and I would class him as a threat.

Although he wouldn't see or hear it coming if I decided to throw a knife at his head. Well, training was only of some use if a certain tribute decided to send a knife in their direction. Muscles weren't everything. Just take a good look at me. Sure, I couldn't throw around weights like the Careers could but I was still dangerous. Especially if I managed to get my hands on a knife in the Hunger Games. Considering the fact that they were the most common weapon one could get at the Cornucopia, this wouldn't be a problem.

Should I try and grab a backpack? Well, I guess it depended on what the arena was based on this year. If we were in a forest then my first priority would be getting a knife, not supplies. Forest arenas always had edible berries in them and since I knew a lot about plants, that was a potential food source. Although if I did grab a backpack, that was one more backpack for me and one less for the Careers.

You see, the Careers were used to the sort of living that the Capitol were providing use with now. Maybe they didn't live quite like this, but they were well-fed and wouldn't be used to the harsh conditions that the Games imposed on you. Mind you, they would have control of the Cornucopia, wouldn't they? Where a plentiful bounty of food and water was stored. Unless some genius from another district found a way of destroying the food supplies, the Careers wouldn't be suffering too much.

But it is the Hunger Games, no? Where you are supposed to feel hunger, if you take the name of the game literally. Which I had full intentions of doing should the opportunity present itself with a cherry on top. All I needed to know is what the arena would actually be and then I could get started on how I –

"Neon Edison,"

While I was thinking over how to indirectly eliminate the most obvious threat, the Careers, all bar one had left for their private demonstrations. Now the creepy-looking Three girl looked up, a vacant expression on her face. She reminded me of a porcelain doll – blue eyes empty and washed-out blonde hair limp and lifeless against her back. Fear flashed across her features, something which she tried to cover up ineffectively. Reluctantly, she shuffled her feet across the floor over to where the Gamemaker had called her. Looking at her small, fragile stature, it was hard to believe that she could be a threat, that she could even survive the bloodbath.

But I begged to differ. The spark of intelligence I had seen in her eyes made me wonder if she was pretending, if that District Three girl was feigning weakness. Not physical weakness mind you, since you couldn't really hide muscle and she didn't have much, but I suspected that she wasn't letting on the full extent of her abilities. Anybody could see from a distance that this girl did not have any fabulous physical abilities but how exactly did one measure the extent of a person's intelligence?

Suddenly I'm seized by paranoia. I knew nothing about this Neon girl, not a thing. For all I knew, she could be a killer, hiding her true self behind her innocent looks. She's from District Three as well – chances are that she would know how to use any technology in the arena and if the arena had any kind of electrical equipment in there, that gave her the advantage over me. Well it would do no matter how skilled she was because when it came to that kind of thing, I wouldn't have a clue. Then I reconsider, because the chances of the Gamemakers using a electrical arena were not particularly high. Everybody knew that the Capitol favoured the Careers and since they weren't super-smart nerds like District Three tended to be, using a arena like that would probably not guarantee another victory for Districts One, Two or Four.

The stamping of feet alerts me to a tribute moving over to where I was sitting. With a smile, the boy from District Eight skipped over to stand a few feet away from me and waved. I don't bother wasting my energy on something as silly as waving back at him.

"Hello there, my name's Harrison. Nice to meet you." The Eight boy introduces himself in a irritatingly bright voice. Harrison extends his hand for me to shake while aiming his smile at me. His other hand flicks some of his light brown hair out of the way of his eyes. Still, I remain motionless, not even acknowledging Harrison's existence in the hopes that he would go away and annoy somebody else. No such luck.

This Harrison kid didn't even appear to be fazed by my lack of response, "Are you nervous for the private Gamemakers' sessions?"

He asks me this with supposed sympathy in his voice. Yeah, I say supposed because it's obvious that he's faking it. Harrison is only pretending to be nice so that I feel bad about killing him. I could have told him now that his plan wasn't going to work with me. Nice or mean, innocent or guilty, young or younger, I would still kill whoever I saw unless they had something that would benefit me. But why would I ever need a ally? I was skilled at close-range combat, knew my plant life, agile, fast and clever to boot. Why on earth would I even consider the possibility of having one?

I guess I could ally with somebody stronger than me. But strength wasn't everything so that was hardly at the top of my to-do list. Although Harrison didn't look exceptionally strong anyway. Then I mentally knock some sense into me – no way did I want some annoying goody-two-shoes like him anywhere near me. He struck me as the type who would never shut up. Not unless I made him.

"Of course I am, Harry, I'm terrified," I reply with biting sarcasm, not using his full name deliberately to see if it irritated him, to see if any cracks in his cheery façade would show. None did. "Nothing is more scary than jumping around like a trained puppy just so we're assigned a number."

Harrison completely ignores most of my sarcasm, "Don't worry, Rae, I'm sure that you'll do well. In any case, good luck to you." He gives me yet another smile. It slowly dawns on me that this idiot actually means it. He actually wants me to do well in the private sessions. Harrison is actually trying to be kind and helpful.

I hated people who tried to be kind. Helping others encouraged weakness and it was weakness on the rebels' behalf that had put me in this situation. If everybody could fend for themselves, there wouldn't be any problems that affected other people who hadn't done anything. If there was fighting, it was sorely between two people and nobody else had to pay the consequences for whatever happened.

However, civilisation existed, much to the misfortune of humanity. I guess it was of some small benefit to me, I supposed, with me being far less weak than most of the children that I would have to call competition. Mentally weak, that is, not physically.

I give Harrison a mean smile, "I hope you break a leg, Harry." That wasn't meant to be taken literally, although that would be convenient for me. No, it was a disused term for 'good luck'. However, the snide tone of voice used coupled with the sickly sweet smile implied that I meant anything but that. Actually, I was hoping that he did injure his leg while he tried and failed to impress the Gamemakers. What? It would serve him right for trying to weaken me with his 'kindness' and neatly eliminated one of the twenty-three tributes from becoming victor.

Instead of looking insulted at my comment like he was supposed to, Harrison's eyes light up, "You know what that term means as well? And here I was thinking that I was the only one." He's about to add more, I can tell by the fact that he opens his mouth to burden me with more unnecessary details but then the Gamemakers interrupt and – for the first time ever – spare me from something. Namely, the torture of having to deal with the District Eight boy's repellently optimistic nature for another second.

"Harrison Sigell,"

He looks surprised for a second before he plasters another smile on his face. A smile that I failed to rub off. Giving me a girly wave, he skips over to where the Gamemaker awaited, practically leaving rainbows and sunshine in his wake. Shuddering inwardly at the unappealing mental image and his sickly personality, I was insanely grateful that this guy wasn't my district partner. Well actually, it really should be the other way around; I would have throttled Harrison by now if I was his district partner. So really, he should be thankful that he was still alive. Although that tiny little detail would be corrected in a few days. Thank goodness for that.

Glaring at Harrison, who isn't looking at me anymore and therefore didn't see me, I don't realise that somebody else has moved into the space that the District Eight boy had occupied until I notice a pair of stormy blue eyes watching me out of the corners of my vision. Turning to face the tribute, I realise that it's the boy from Twelve. I think his name was Aaron but who really cared? The point was that he was being slightly creepy by staring at me and I wanted to know why. So I did what any other person would do and asked him politely if he came over to ask me something.

"What do you want?" One slight problem though; I wouldn't know politeness if it hit me over the head with a sledgehammer. So my question was asked in a voice as blunt as the back of a knife. This wasn't really a problem, if you asked me – why bother wasting time with the niceties when you could state your business and be done with it? Especially when you really weren't in the mood for talking to anybody after failing to provoke a reaction out of Harrison.

Aaron or whatever the hell his name was didn't react at all to my question. In fact, I wouldn't have thought that he even heard me had he not responded, "Who said that I wanted anything from you?"

Much to my irritation, his voice is flat and utterly, infuriatingly calm. Trying not to lose my temper, I scowl at him; did anybody react to anything around here? Firstly, I had the ever optimistic Harrison, who didn't even seem to realise that I wasn't actually wishing him luck. Now I had creeper-dude from District Twelve who had randomly decided to stroll over here for no reason.

People were so annoying. Seriously, they never behaved logically, always being motivated by stupid things such as love and money and fame. Anybody with a grain of sense could see that putting so much stock into those ideals was practically setting yourself up for failure. And yet humans still do idiotic things in the name of aforementioned trivial things.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I try and keep the irritation out of my voice as I reply, "Well you see, most people don't tend to stare at others unless they want something."

It was simple human logic. You never paid any attention to a person unless you wanted something out of them. Money, attention, a reprieve from having that person kill you. Or maybe you just stared at them in the hope that they somehow burst into flames if you glared at them hard enough. Since this was the Hunger Games, most of the tributes usually looked at others with the last intention in mind.

He sniffs at me slightly, "What most people do doesn't apply to me."

"If you say so, your grand majesty," I punctuate my sarcastic words with a mock curtsey, "And using that logic, you're saying that your royal Highness isn't going to try and win the Hunger Games then. Since 'most people' aim to win."

I thought that my last statement would make him admit to the fact that he isn't unlike 'most people' as he still feared death, which the majority of Panem did. I just happened to be one of the superior minority. However, his next words are unexpected.

"I guess you could say that." Aaron replies conversationally, not giving away any signs to the contrary. In

fact, talking about his own death almost seems to bounce off him, like he was talking about the weather. Something which makes very little sense to me. It wasn't because he didn't seem to hold any regard for his life. It was because he didn't care about how he left this world, which was just plain sloppy. If you were going to die, then you might as well leave a impression on people. Wherever that would be because you said some tragic pithy line, ended up taking down your killer with you or just plain old irritating the crap out of them.

If I got a choice, which I'm pretty sure I would do, I would take the second and third options. Somehow, they seemed a little bit more thrilling than dying in someone's arms in some tragic ending that bored me to tears instead of moving me to them. Narrowing my eyes, I scrutinize Aaron, trying to see if he was being sarcastic in the slightest. If he was, he would regret even thinking about doing such a thing in the arena.

"You're lying," I hiss at him, "Do you not get it? If you don't win, you die." Was this guy trying to mess with me or was he just phenomenally stupid? Either way, he was going to pay for his stupidity or impudence in the arena. Stupid people were disasters waiting to happen, for themselves and anybody unfortunate enough to be around them, meaning that I would actually be doing him a favour by taking him out. As for him trying to make a fool out of me, well, let's just say that nobody who did that got away without consequences.

Despite the threatening tone in my voice, he remains unfazed. This guy was really starting to piss me off with the fact that he didn't even seem annoyed. On the contrary, he seemed almost amused at where the conversation was going, which was doing little to quell my temper, "I don't have a reason to win or to live. Neither have I had a reason to lie. Lying is something most people do and like I said what most people do doesn't refer to me."

Most people would have said that with a slight superior tone in their tones or expressions. Not this guy. Judging by the slightly distracted look in his eyes, I don't think that he was even paying any attention to me.

"Rae," I whirl around before I realise that the person who called my name must be wanting me to have my turn for the private sessions. Where I would be expected to jump around like a trained puppy in front of the Gamemakers for a number. The resemblance to a dog contest is insulting to me. If dog contests killed all of the contestants after the winner had been picked, of course.

Aiming one last smirk at Aaron, who doesn't react to it, I shuffle away, "We'll see about that in the arena then." I say as I walk over to the Gamemaker. Let's see how high and mighty he is when I catch up with him. He'll be pleading for his life before you could say 'Boo' to him. Although I only wanted him to just so I could win this argument, not because I actually wanted him to beg like most tributes seemed to when death came around to hit them in the face. Well that wasn't going to happen with me. I would fight every step of the way. Hell, they were the ones demeaning my final moments to just another plot point on a freaking television program, I think they could handle me.

They wanted me to jump around for them? Sure, I'll do just that. I'll be the innocent little puppy who they found just adorable.

Yeah right.

...

Entering the training room, it strikes me that the other tributes who got to perform first have a slight advantage over me. If you went first, you didn't have to worry about the equipment you wanted to use being vandalised or destroyed. Not like any of the things that I needed to use were ruined or anything. It was just the fact that the curtains seemed to be missing. From the small piles of ash that remained, I was guessing that somebody had decided to set fire to them. Why you would want to set curtains on fire was unknown to me.

There went Plan A then. The mystery tribute who had burned down the curtains had left none of them untouched, meaning that I couldn't use the curtains to tie knots like I had been planning for my grand spectacle. Well, of course I was planning on doing something more impressive than tie knots, which I had mastered over the course of the three training days, but I did need to show them that. Not only did it show off my capacity for picking up new things quickly, it would have also made for a passable ladder. Good thing I was prepared with a back-up plan.

Dismissing the curtains, or what remained of the curtains, I casually walk over to where the climbing station was situated, glancing up at where the Gamemakers' table was situated. Six or so metres up, the purple-robed Capitolites who would soon be responsible for my life and death sat, laughing and chatting with each other. Not a single one of them were paying attention to me. Hell, I don't think that any of them had even noticed that I had arrived. Yet another thing which you don't do.

Looking away from the gaggle of idiots that would be trying their hardest to kill me in two days, I observe the climbing station closely. It mainly consisted of nets which you tried to climb up but since there had never been artificial blue nets to climb up on in the arena, the Gamemakers had 'generously' provided fake trees to practice your tree-climbing skills on. After all, trees were almost always in the arena so it was a good skill to acquire. However, it was not the most popular station, either because the weapon-training was deemed a higher priority or because you already knew how to climb. For me, it was the second option. Well that, and the fact that I was also planning on using my ability to climb like a squirrel to show the Gamemakers just why you don't ignore me.

The tree that I had chosen was a life-sized version and actually felt like a real plant as I started the ascent upwards. In a few minutes, I was high enough to jump onto the rafters in the ceiling. I guess having a ceiling ten or so metres away from the floor had its advantages.

Climbing onto another branch, I reflexively gripped my hands tighter against the branch above me. The branch that my two feet rested on was barely three inches thick and I knew that no Career would be able to balance on it without the branch breaking and having said Career falling several metres down to hit the ground and hopefully break their leg. Or neck. Then I almost laugh because I told Harrison to break his leg. Shame that he hadn't tried climbing, otherwise his weight – the only thing about him that was superior to me – would have snapped a branch beneath him long before he managed to get as high up as I was now. Bending my knees slightly, I eye the rafter that is mere centimetres away before I propel myself forwards, arms outstretched to cling onto the metal rafter. My feet scrabble for some purchase against the smooth, featureless metal but it finds nothing.

And there I was, almost ten metres above the ground, the only thing preventing me from falling being the unnaturally tight grip my fingers had on the rafter as I tried to scramble into a safe position to observe the Gamemakers. Since there were no gasps, I was still in invisible-mode as far as they were concerned. That was probably not a good thing, having my life in the hands of these incompetent, unobservant thingsbut what could you do about it?

Eventually, I have both of my feet on the rafter and, carefully, I turn around to see where I was going to move next. Well that wasn't particularly difficult to work out.

I hoped the Gamemakers felt like having a nice cup of tea with the District Nine girl because that was what they were going to get.

...

Three seconds.

In just three seconds, they were going to get the surprise of their lives. Just look at them, all nice and cosy. Safe in the knowledge that they could – and would – kill twenty-three of us whenever the mood took them.

Two seconds.

I was going to show them that we could still fight back against them. We Districts could still hurt them. Sure, we might get flattened for real in the process but the Capitol weren't going to escape unscathed. Ha, if they tried to eliminate all of the districts, just how precisely was the Capitol supposed to sustain itself and all of the weak parasites that called themselves people?

One second.

Most importantly, the Gamemakers were going to learn that they shouldn't ignore me. It was essential that they realised this since I had a pretty good chance of actually winning this thing.

Now! Without thinking, I let myself drop from the rafters, letting gravity take me away from the rafters and straight into the lap of the Head Gamemaker.

To say that he was unprepared for a fifteen year old girl crashing from above like a spider – abet a very heavy spider – into him and knocking him into the floor would be a understatement. The fact that he was sent sprawling onto the floor would be a pretty good place to start if you needed evidence of this. Quickly, I get up and away from him, ignoring the open mouths that the other Gamemakers were giving me, and take a closer look at my victim.

For starters, this guy was taller than me. That might not sound very impressive but he was literally double my height, which probably made sense because I bet you that the Head Gamemaker was double my age, if not older. His skin was blue like a winter's sky but his lips were unaltered, the natural pink skin stretched around his lips drawing your eyes to them like a bullseye drew your attention to the centre of a target. What's-his-face's hair was a white-blonde colour and each strand of his spiked and ridiculously gelled hair looked strong enough to withstand having the weight of a dinner plate on them. I guess that I could try and see if my speculation was correct but I was distracted by him fixating his attention to me. Why? Because of his eyes. They were a amber-gold colour and clearly not natural. Those amber eyes stared unblinkingly at me like a owl waiting to swoop down and kill the mouse that it had been hunting.

That mouse would be me. Again.

Unwilling to show the Gamemakers that I was slightly unnerved about how they would react, I calmly take the piece of chocolate brownie that had been resting untouched on the Head Gamemaker's plate and take a large bite out of it. And boy, did they know how to make brownies or what? The rich chocolate taste seemed to seep into my taste buds as I savoured the one bite I had. Did these guys eat like this all the time? No wonder they were so spoilt.

Well it didn't matter, did it? Since this would be one of the last times I got to eat such nice food. Reluctantly, I place the brownie back on the plate, practically throwing it away to show just how much I don't care for it. However, I do indulge in licking my fingers loudly while the more prudent Gamemakers look shocked at my 'outrageous' manners. Oh well, since when did table manners help you in the great life-and-death debate?

The voice of the person that I had just floored stops me cleaning the brownie off my fingers, "What was _that _supposed to be?" He asks me in a voice that would come off as cheery to the more oblivious. I, however, could hear the menace coming off him in waves under that friendly persona.

Unaffected by this, I smirk at him, "That, my dear, happened to be my excellent demonstration. Personally, I think that deserves a twelve, don't you think?"

I notice the Gamemaker next to me eyeing the cake that is sitting innocently on a plate, unaware of the Gamemaker's intentions. I watch him until he decides to try and take it. Operative term: try. Picking up a knife, I throw it in his direction and smile when it lodges into the table a mere inch from his hand. Squeaking in fear, he pulls his hand back and I deftly take the plate of cake and send it flying across the room. The plate makes a almost dainty tinkling sound as it smashes into dozens of shards.

This only makes the fury behind the Head Gamemaker's eyes more apparent, "Is that all you have to show us, Miss Rae?"

I think my lack of a last name irritated him more than my actions but I didn't plan on doing anything else so I might as well go now. Picking up the neglected brownie, I take another bite as I ask, "Sure, you know where the elevators are?"

I can hardly taste the brownie anymore. It's as if the taste has overwhelmed and numbed my taste buds. That would be a shame, wouldn't it?

But it didn't matter, not now.

Nothing tastes quite as sweet as victory.


	25. Forever in the Shadows

**A/N- **There should be no more long breaks between Capitol chapters anymore, and we are getting nearer and nearer to the launch guys. I am really looking forward to that. But we still have some more chapters, once again we have the brilliant Cashmere67 writing a chapter that wasn't his, and he is giving us a deeper insight into Derak, hope you like it! :D You will hear the training scores in this chapter, but there will also be a list at the bottom :)

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**Training Scores**

**Derak Penfold, District Nine Male**

_**Written by Cashmere67, submitted by Ginga-In-Ravenclaw**_

* * *

There's not much I want in life. Really, there isn't. All I want is to be noticed and to be treated as a human. You would have thought I was invisible and perhaps that is how they wanted me to feel. Or maybe I really am deemed that unknown. I have counted several people who just walked right in to me, shoving me aside like I was just an inconvenience in their lives.

I can read people rather well now. Years of staying withdrawn and minding my own business has resulted in such a gift. People may not notice me but in return I notice them. I don't speak so I listen and I'm not seen so I observe. I would consider one of my only talents to be this astute judgment of character.

Throughout my time in the Capitol I witnessed each tribute's personality in different settings. During training, they were mostly modest while attempting to acquire a few skills to help themselves survive. But after the private training sessions, most of them, especially the Careers, began to feel optimistic towards their chances of actually surviving.

I, on the other hand, just realized more how my death is inevitable. When I walked into the training area, where I was about to be evaluated, the Gamemakers didn't even bother to ask me my name. I felt like an insignificant rodent, but I knew I had to ignore it. I proceeded to the knives station and simply stab two dummies in the stomach. I decided to leave after that; they probably didn't even watch me enough to actually give me a decent score.

Some people like to live in the spotlight and enjoy the attention of others – like Zeo and Silver. Also, there are those who just fade in to the background – like Neon. Then there are the bluntly hostile ones – like Rae and Fir.

Specifically Rae, my District partner, is the epitome of hostility. You can't even ask her a simple question without her rolling her eyes and snickering at you. There must be something I can do to not make her so pessimistic. It sounds easy, doesn't it?

I guess some are simply 'brighter' and 'dimmer' than others.

"Children! Children! The scores will be revealed soon!" My escort, Robinetro, squeals enthusiastically.

Robinetro Flaxine, District Nine's escort this year. Unlike the other escorts, he actually enjoys escorting District Nine throughout the Capitol process. His favorite food product is grain and anything that consists of bread. Now there's a reason to escort the farmers of District Nine. The rubies embedded in his skin glimmering in the light. His light-red skin is complemented by his pale-pink eyes and dark-red hair.

Harley crosses her arms, "How exciting! I am sure the Careers came out on top with these scores!"

She glares at Rae and myself, "Well, better than the two of you, anyway."

Harley Prazna, on the other hand, despises any District other than 1, 2, or 4. She basically worships the Hunger Games and its symbolism. Harley constantly asks me, the more 'sensible' one in her eyes on her current beauty status. I tend to nod and give her the satisfaction she wants, when in reality, I couldn't care less. Harley is truly clueless, though, on the implications of the games. I would love to see her go into the arena and attempt to fight for her life.

Rae snatches the remote from the table, grunting in the process. She turns on the television and Jokle and Otho's faces appear on it.

Rae slouches down on the couch, taking up most of it, leaving a limited amount of space. I cautiously walk over and sit down on the tip of the couch cushion. She sends me a death stare and I casually slide off of the couch and sit down on the floor.

"Welcome, viewers from the Capitol. Otho, can you do me a favor and remind me what we're doing tonight?" Jokle smirks and points at Otho.

"Well, Jokle, I believe we are revealing the Training Scores," Otho responds with a nod.

"You are correct! Now, the time you have all been waiting for!" Jokle grasps the piece of paper tighter in his hands.

"Hurry up already!" Harley shouts at the television, obviously infuriated.

Rae shushes her and Harley looks offended, but still makes a face behind Rae's back.

"As always, we shall begin with District One's Zeo Radonix," he begins, "with a score of – 9."

Zeo's face with his arrogant smile appears behind Jokle and Otho. He pauses for a moment to allow whomever the tribute's admirers are to congratulate them and cheer.

Jokle continues, "The beautiful Silver Hartford, with a score of – 10."

"That bitch," Rae mutters to herself. She stomps her foot and waves the remote around, contemplating whether to throw it or not. She settles down as Talon's face appears behind Jokle and Otho.

"From District Two: Talon Lockhearst with a score of – 10."

"This is different, Jokle. Two tributes with a 10 and we've only been through three," Otho adds.

Jokle smirks, "Kaya Andora with a score of – 9."

Rae moves around a little in her seat, bespeaking her disagreement with the scores. She lays her head back on the couch, not caring about the next few tributes' scores.

"Oh, it's him, Otho. From District Three: James Templesworth with a score of – 6."

James' face is replaced by the introvert, Neon, with her grave eyes that seem like they are staring directly into your soul.

"Neon Edison with a score of," he pauses and their mouths open into an "O" shape, " – 7."

"Hm, isn't she an interesting one?" Otho asks out of astonishment.

Jokle moves on, "From District Four: Azura-Jay Dennis with a score of – 6."

"How did he manage that?" Robinetro sneers. Rae and I look at each other and quickly smirk, but then she looks away and her jaw tightens.

"Oceava Lac with a score of – 8."

"The Careers are impressive this year, aren't they?" Otho points to the screen behind him.

"They are indeed, Otho. From District 5: Zedock Conduit with a score of – 4."

I stand up and lean against the wall, behind Robinetro, Harley, and Rae. I notice in the corner of my eye Robinetro and Harley whispering to each other. I wouldn't be surprised if it was about us.

Jokle glances at the picture behind him of Alyssa, "Alyssa Wright with a score of – 4."

Harley pours herself another cup of some colorful liquid and brings the cup to her lips while lifting up her pinky.

"From District Six: Dale Cash with a score of – 3."

Jokle clears his throat, "Jade Reranem with a score of – 6."

"At least someone did well in the pair," Otho scoffs.

"From District Seven: Fir Hertwig with a score of – 8."

Rae puckers her lips and mumbles a few more words.

Harley claps and whistles, "Yes! Exactly how it should be every year! These Careers are unstoppable!"

"An-Wei Lian with a score of – 5."

"From District Eight: Harrison Sigell with a score of – 6. Next up, Maia Rune with a score of 6."

Then Maia's face is replaced by Derak Penfold's, also known as me. I clench my fists and await my score, ultimately predicting it will be at least a 3, but lower than a 5.

"From District Nine: Derak Penfold with a score of – 5."

My body drops to the floor and Robinetro looks over to see if I'm alright. I punch my fists in the air a few times until I notice Rae's face on the screen. A solemn expression appears on her face, not a single care about my score in her mind.

Jokle's eyes widen, "Rae with a score of – 10."

"10?" Otho whispers into Jokle's ear.

"I guess so, but, congratulations to you, Rae," Jokle says, "From District Ten: Alexander Finch with a score of – 7."

Harley seems offended by this, "A seven? How does someone of that social status receive a seven?"

"Erina Harte with a score of – 5."

Next is Tommy Dravna, who is supposedly my ally for the games. Even if he's 12, he seems to possess a characteristic that I just cannot put my finger on.

"From District Eleven: Tommy Dravna with a score of – 5."

I can't help but feel happy for my pal, Tommy. We got the same score which definitely means something. A five is average for the tributes. So, that means we're average, right?

"Ariella Satey with a score of – 4. Moving on, From District Twelve: Aamon Trace with a score of – 6," Jokle lets out a breath of relief that the scores are over.

"Lastly, Winter Spry with a score of – 5. That concludes the training scores, everyone!"

"Thank you for tuning in. We all know what tomorrow is, don't we?" Otho is interrupted mid-sentence by Rae turning off the television.

"What was that for?" Harley shouts, but Rae ignores her and storms off into her room.

I am tempted to follow her, but before I can go anywhere near her room, the door is slammed shut. I wave goodnight to Robinetro and Harley and proceed into my bedroom. I plop down on the bed and laugh to myself; I, a farmer from District Nine, received a five!

Most of the training scores were mostly predictable, except for a few certain tributes.

Silver Hartford was the first tribute to impress me. Whenever I see her, I blush, and whenever she speaks to me, I get all choked up – even if it was mostly criticism and snarky comments. She is truly the epitome of the spiritual being called an 'angel'. I am aware her beauty and charisma definitely helped her get the score, but that wasn't the only reason why she received it. During training, she showed off her ability with spears and hand-to-hand combat. If you combine all of those reasons, it basically adds up to a training score of 10. Although her ally, Talon, received the same score as her, it wasn't as impressive. She was obviously the strongest one in her alliance, not Talon. I think he got that score out of pure luck.

I don't tend to judge anyone, or be rude for that matter. But Neon Edison, or the introvert in my eyes, really confuses me. How did she manage that 7? During training, she would usually disappear and not show herself. It's odd, though, that I feel like we could have been friends. Me and her are alike in some way; we are both quiet and enjoy analyzing people in order to see who they really are. Not that I look forward to the arena at all, but I will keep an eye on her throughout it – if I don't die on the first day, that is. There isn't much to say about her, to be honest, she's just mysterious. Yes, mysterious, that's the word. I shall call her 'The Mystery'.

Districts Four to Eight weren't as notable; except Fir and a few more-than-average scores. Next comes District Nine, though, with Rae and myself. The one thing I hoped was that Rae would change in the Capitol. All I want is that one person to bond with, or even become acquaintances with. Unfortunately, that's not what happened. Her score doesn't necessarily bother me, but it makes me look weak. All this time, Rae's presence has put me under the radar and I have not been treated as important as her. Won't that work out to my advantage, though? Being under the radar? Who knows? For the moment, all I know is that there is no more fooling around. The things that bothers me the most is that she'd kill me in a second in the arena, without even thinking of sparing my life for a second.

Alexander Finch and Erina Harte. The two of them really stood out to me. Even though Erina received a five while Alexander received a seven, they both made themselves eminent. District Ten is known for Bloodbaths. Call me silly, but I find Erina cute. But of course, she would never speak to a boy like me – just like Silver and Rae. I don't think Alexander would be too happy with me either if I started talking to her. The two of them have formed some kinship throughout the Capitol, which is something I envy. They will have each other's back no matter what. Unfortunately for Alexander, the Careers might want to personally kill him because of his score. Good luck to both of you, Alexander and Erina. If I had to choose anyone as victor besides myself, it'd be one of you.

Even though Tommy didn't really stand out to me, he is still my ally, which means I have to pay attention to him. Tommy and I haven't bonded over the last few days, except for our little small-talk about life back in our Districts. I do consider him my 'friend', but nothing more and nothing less. I might have been proud of his score for him, but people who receive a score of five never do too well in the games. It's a thought I shouldn't think too much about because I also got a five. Does this mean that I won't do well either? But, people in alliances usually do better than those who don't. I can only hope for the best. The future is unknown, although most people can forebode its events.

I wonder what was Rae is doing at this moment. It's not too late, and besides, tomorrow is only the interviews. Maybe she'll want to talk to me. Even if she doesn't, I won't accept the fact that she 'hates' me. Hate is a strong word and you can't hate anybody just because you think you're better than them. I walk towards her room and knock on the door gently.

"Rae?" I whisper.

"What do you want?" Rae snaps back.

"Can I come in?"

"No," Rae's voice is at the door and then I hear a click sound.

"Unlock it, Rae. I want to talk," I try to sound friendly as possible.

She unlocks it and slightly opens the door, but the room behind the door is visible. I push the door a little and she puts all of her strength into pushing it back towards me.

"Please?" I whimper.

"Fine," Rae releases the door and sits back down on a chair.

Her room is extremely messy. Her clothes are hung all over the place and all of her drawers are pushed outwards. There's something written on her window with lipstick, but it is not legible.

"So…," I sway back and forth.

"So? What did you think of the training scores?" Rae says coldly.

"They were interesting, don't you agree? Especially your ten!"

"Mhm, mine was pretty interesting, wasn't it? Your five wasn't, though," Rae rolls her eyes.

I bite my lip at her rude comment, "Why are you so hostile? I can make you happy, Rae."

"How? By leaving? I would be overjoyed if you did."

I begin walking back towards the door, but stop right as I grab the handle. "Goodnight, Rae."

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," she responds.

I contemplate saying something back to her, but I just end up leaving. I obviously cannot do anything to make her less grumpy. Her attitude is not my problem, though, it's hers. When people begin to dislike her only because of her attitude, she'll come crying back to me. And guess what? I won't be there to comfort her. I gave her a chance, but she ignored me completely.

I wander around the District Nine floor for a while until I realize there is nothing else to do. I look out the window and notice the bustling city below. Even at this late of an hour, people are still rushing around and interacting. There has to be something to do here besides sitting around, waiting until the next day.

I tiptoe towards the entrance of the District Nine floor and make sure no one can see me. I slowly open the door and slip outside when it's not open all the way. I shut the door slowly once again to make sure no one can hear me.

Down the hall I notice the elevator, and unleash my childish self. I begin sprinting down the hallway, attempting to reach the elevator faster and faster. In District Nine we never had any functional elevators, so this is all new to me still. Once I enter it, I close my eyes and press a random button. I open my eyes and notice I pressed the '1' button. I assume that means the first floor. The elevator descends to the first floor with spontaneous creaks and shakes here and there.

When I arrive on the first floor, the doors slide open. Before I can take one step out of it, the Careers standing in the corner of this floor instantly stare at me. There they are – Silver, Zeo, Kaya, Talon, Oceava, and Fir. I begin walking towards them, but realize that wouldn't be a good idea. They wouldn't want to have a conversation with me, but others might.

There aren't many people down here besides the Careers, Erina, and Maia. Erina and Maia are sitting right next to a window in large red chairs. I stroll towards the two of them, making sure to smile if they look at me. Once I come closer, I can hear their conversation; it's about some fairytale, I believe. Erina's the one telling the story and Maia's listening very carefully.

I extend my hand, "I'm Derak. May I sit with you?"

Erina shakes my hand and scoots over, "Sure you can! Would you like to hear my story as well?"

"Sh! She was just about to tell me the ending!" Maia squeals.

Erina giggles, "I'm Erina, by the way, and this is Maia."

Maia smiles at me and rests her head on her hand.

Erina continues with her story, "Then she woke up and realized that it was all just a dream. But the happiness that she felt never left her because she knew that it was real in her heart and that's all that matters, Maia."

Maia giggles, "Erina! That was amazing! Tell me more, please!"

Erina winks at Maia, "Tomorrow, Maia. I promise."

They both turn towards me. "So, how did you feel about the training scores?"

Erina shrugs, "They were nice; especially Maia's. How did you feel about them?"

"I agree, Erina, they were nice."

Maia frowns, "Sorry, but it's getting late and I have to be back before midnight. It was nice meeting you, Derak!"

Maia gets up and begins walking towards the elevator and Erina begins to jog over to her. The elevator doors open and they both enter.

"Goodnight, Derak!" Erina shouts before the doors slide closed.

_It was nice meeting you._ Maia's words recollect in my mind. Was meeting me truly enjoyable? We won't know each other for long, will we? Erina's and Maia's friendship might seem impeccable, but this is the Hunger Games we're about to enter. Can anyone truly be friends in the Hunger Games?

Are we all deceived by follies of our own creation?

* * *

**Training Scores:**

Zeo Radonix- 9

Silver Hartford- 10

Talon Lockhearst- 10

Kaya Andora- 9

James Templesworth- 6

Neon Edison- 7

Azura-Jay Dennis- 6

Oceava Lac- 8

Zedock Conduit- 4

Alyssa Wright- 4

Dale Cash- 3

Jade Reranem- 6

Fir Hertwig- 8

An-Wei Lian- 5

Harrison Sigell- 6

Maia Rune- 6

Derak Penfold- 5

Rae- 10

Alexander Finch- 7

Erina Harte- 5

Tommy Dravna- 5

Ariella Satey- 4

Aamon Trace- 6

Winter Spry- 5


	26. Beautiful lies, twisted fate

**A/N- **It feels weird being able to just keep updating, things have gone very wrong with the chapters in the Capitol but now it should be completely fine. Anyway I now bring you a chapter in the POV of Erina. I hope you enjoy it! :D

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**DA Member Hogwarts A/N- **Okay, nothing to say here people. Just thank you, Teddy for helping me with the grammar and all! :)

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**Preparation for the Interviews**

**Erina Harte, District Ten Female**

_**DA Member Hogwarts**_

* * *

Life as I have known it is no more. I am not sure if that is a good thing.

I have been transported to a different realm, a different time and a different place. I have been woken up here but also put to sleep, it is so bizarre. I feel a new lease of life in a way but it is false of course, I have been brought her to die no matter how much I try to forget.

These last few days have been so strange and I barely know how to process them, I miss having my diary and writing to my 'friend', it was the only way to get my thoughts out and now I am truly alone.

The Capitol really is a beautiful lie. It seems so vast, so spectacular, modern and beautiful but it is a corrupt place where children are preened and polished and shown to the world before they die.

Don't you think that seems so bizarre?

It's like anything else in life really. Things sometimes seem so innocent on the surface but deep down and at the heart of it they are evil and twisted. Like me. Well I am not evil, I know that, but I am far from what my care free and innocent image would lead others to believe, there is darkness within me and I didn't even put it there. It can't go away thought. It won't go away.

I'm still Erina Harte from District ten, essentially. But I am now Erina Harte the Hunger Games tribute so things couldn't be more different.

Tonight will be the famous tribute interviews and I dread it with all of my heart.

The exposure, the piercing spotlights and all eyes on me, it will be crippling.

The opening ceremony Chariot rides where bad enough but at least then I could just stand atop my chariot and smile dazedly and stare a head and pretend. I have always been so good at pretending.

But this time I will actually have to speak. This time I won't have Alexander right beside me in silent support. This time it will not be just an image of me in my outlandish Chariot costume plastered across the screens, it will be me. Me on display for the whole of Panem, my heart laid bare and all of my scars open.

Well, that is what they will want. I just hope I can hide behind my own personal shield as always. I just hope I am not asked anything too personal.

I'm sitting now alone for the first time in ages. I'm alone in my lavish Capitol bedroom awaiting my prep team to transform me for the interviews in to a beautiful princess. Jeen's words not mine. I do think it is a nice idea though I am no princess. Still, this bedroom is fit for a princess and we are very high up on the tenth floor so I can imagine I'm in a palace tower.

At least I have gotten time to reflect on my fellow tributes. I may have lost interest in writing my letters; there is nothing to say now. But I did take the time to write down my thoughts on my fellow tributes. It helps me to write things and understand it more. I like getting the thoughts out of my head. There is just too many and it hurts having them all in there, crashing in to each other and merging as one.

The folded papers containing my notes lay beside me on the purple satin sheets. I have taken to reading them every so often just to draw me to reality. I unfold them now and read some of my scattered notes.

_Silver Hartford is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life though it is somewhat a foreign concept. It is like looking at a rare and exotic flower that you don't quite understand._

_She is 18 and very powerful and smart but I find it funny how she seems to think she is better than the rest of us. She could die just like any of us and it is so sad that something so pretty could perish._

_Her last name is quite like mine which is nice but I do not think she likes me. I heard her mutter a name about us District Ten tributes._

_Zeo Radonix is so funny. I know he is a career and Alexander told me that they are not good people but I don't think in that way. I wonder if there is a reason for them being how they are, I know that I have reasons for being so strange. I think his singing is so wonderful and it is nice to see someone doing something that they love even when they are faced with their impending death. I think it makes him seem more real to me even if he is odd._

_Neon Edison is the cutest tribute because she is so small. She is from District Three and they are always so smart and I wish I could be smart like her._

_She is always alone and I wish she would be my friend but I do not want to bother her._

_I think people do not realise that she could be just as good as them._

_Azura Jay Dennis makes me very sad. Alexander said I should not pity people but I cannot help feel so badly for him. He is all alone here because he has no friends. I think he is always alone because of his blindness and it keeps him in the dark. It is not good to live in the dark in anyway and I wish someone could bring him back into the light._

_Alyssa Wright from District Five could easily be the best friend I have ever had. It is nice to have a girl around to talk to and feel real with. She is a special person and should never fade in to the background. Just because someone does not draw attention to themselves and flaunt their greatness it is does not make them any less important. At least not to me._

_Fir Hertwig is from District Seven but he is with those 'Career' tributes. I would like to know why a boy like him is with them. But you never know! Not everybody is an open book, we all have our secrets. I wonder what darkness he is hiding within and I hope that he does not have to bear too big of a burden._

_Maia Rune is also very young and cute and she is from District Eight. Maia has her own friends or allies as I am supposed to call them but I have talked to her and she reminds me of myself so I feel like I would want to protect her. I think she lives in her own little world and that can either be a blessing or a curse._

_Harrison Sigell is one of my favourite people! He is so strong! I know people will think he is weak for always staying positive in such a situation but to me it takes real strength. It would be so easy for him to retreat in to despair and hopelessness but his smile remains steady. I wish more people in the world where like him. I wish everyone was like Harrison._

_Derak Penfold from District Nine is my newest friend and I am glad to get to call him that. He was very nice to Maia and I. Some people seem to overlook him but I think he is great and I wish I could get to know him even more. _

Reading over these notes I can see what my mentor meant when I showed him them. He said that they were a bit pointless because I focused on how they are as people and not on their skills or possible weaknesses. I understand that but to me it is most important to see them for who they are. They are still people and they are still important. In my eyes they are.

But I know what he means anyway. I understand that I am not like other people.

I had showed him my notes on all of the tributes but not District Ten of course. I told him there was no need because one of them was myself and because Alexander was my District partner and I did not need to write down what I thought about him but it was a lie.

I did include us.

_Erina is the tribute with the least chance at winning these Games. She does not want to accept that it is real and she does not want to go throughmore pain. Perhaps the fact she has been through so much will ease things for her or it could be the final shove, it could be what finally tips her over the edge. She does not understand why this is happening. She does not think the Capitol truly knows what they are doing. Or perhaps she does understand. She knows that people can use their power to their own advantage. She understands that hurting others is only too easy._

I would never want anyone to read that one. No one needs to know how I truly feel about myself.

But more importantly I never want anyone to read the last one. The most important one.

_The best thing about me coming here is him. I would never have got to feel this way if it weren't for this happening. Fate is a cruel and twisted force. But I am thankful for it because I would never get to know him. I would never have gotten to meet him. I would never have realised that someone out there can see me so well, see me for who I am and appreciate that. I would never have met someone with whom I share so much in common. He is someone who has been hurt like me but has come out of it stronger than I ever could have been._

_I would never have got to feel special._

_I know I can never tell him and I know nothing can come of it; I am not as stupid as I look. And I know it may seem crazy to feel this way about someone I have only met but that is why all of this is such a beautiful lie because no matter how right it feels it is wrong and this is why fate can be so twisted sometimes._

_I want him to win and I want him to be happy forever and I want him to forget me because remembering is just too much._

_I am really happy to know Alexander._

I fold them again carefully and place them under my pillow for I doubt anyone would care to look there and I try and force my mind back to more pressing and current issues.

I don't know how exactly I will play this interview. I actually just think I will just embrace it as it comes. All day our mentor and escort have been trying to coach Alexander and I on possible angles. Alexander refused to adapt to any and says he will never change himself and I was too awkward to be convincing in any of the given angles.

Our mentor Jeen just kept being bright and optimistic and said they will love us anyway and that our scores will help us because combined we got a twelve and that is the highest possible score. Boston our mentor just snapped at her that together we could have gotten a possible twenty four and we only got half of that.

He was very happy with me for getting a score of five though mad at Alexander for only getting a seven which is surprising. He did much better than me! Alexander just said he didn't care and wasn't going to try hard to put on a show for a bunch of Capitol morons and then they argued for a while about that. They're always arguing yet they get on very well. They remind me of each other.

Boston is very intimidating, I was quite scared of him before I spoke to him and that is just how Alexander is backing home. I was never afraid of Alexander though. People should just get to know him and they'd like him. He has this kind of presence that makes you feel safe.

Boston is always very sweet to me even if he is rather fierce around others. I don't know why. I'm not exactly the ideal tribute you would want to mentor. Well I don't think I am anyway. He told me that if I am just myself tonight that the Capitol people will fall in love with me. I just laughed at him. Why would anyone fall in love with someone strange like me? Jeen said I should sing one of my songs or read a poem or a story and for the first time ever Boston agreed with her. Alexander said it most have been some kind of world record and I laughed again. He is always making me laugh. Yesterday we had a lot of fun trying to come up for explanations as to why Jeen looks the way she does. Alexander said that her blue skin could be the result of frost bite and that maybe she spent a long time outdoors in the cold. I said that her yellow eyes look like she is part cat and part woman and maybe she has the power to transform in to a cat at will. Neither of us could come up for a reason for her pink hair though I am working on it and will surprise Alexander with it when I do. I hope it will be really funny and make him laugh.

Ember, one of my prep team, cuts in to my thoughts with her carrying and dramatic voice and I am jolted into reality again.

"Erina! We're here!" She and her two companions Belle and Sparks burst in to my room and instantly the energy level multiplies.

They usher me off to the remake centre and in to the room I first met them in on the first night. All three of them talk over each other and vie for my attention. Alexander must be already down here with his own stylist and prep team. I hope he will be okay. He really doesn't like his prep team because of Roxy the only female , he says she keeps telling him he should keep his shirt off and he will get more sponsors and that she says he has to win because she will be hear waiting on him. I think that this is all pretty funny but it annoys Alexander. Many things annoy Alexander though.

Belle, Ember and Sparks get to work on me right away in preparation for Lita Arura, my stylist to finish the final make over. They wash me down several times , remove any stray hairs from my legs and arm pits , wax my eyebrows _again _and cover my body in many lotions and sprays.

Belle is now filing down my finger nails while Ember plays with my hair and Sparks works on my toe nails.

"Erina, seriously, your hair has got more personality than you! It's gone all crazy again!"

I just giggle in response. Imagine that my hair did have its own personality and could talk to me! That would be awesome.

Belle moves to help Ember now and they get to work on transforming my hair with some metal tongs. Soonenough I have a head of luxurious and elaborately curled, shining hair.

As they continue to work on my appearance they begin to beg me to tell them more stories. I remember the first time I met them and they demanded I told them a story. Belle had asked me about what I had said to Jeen at the reaping and I told them I always tell stories and they were instantly hooked. They are like a group of excited little children and I can't help feeling affectionate toward them becauseno one has ever wanted to hear my stories before. Well except for Rowena,but I think she is merely humouring me while my prep team actually enjoys it.

Belle in particular loves my stories. She is the most childlike of the three with her pale blue hair,wide eyes and soft spoken nature.

"Tell us more about the girl with the friend in her mirror, oh please!" She squeaks excitedly while clapping her hands in a childlike fashion. I smile patiently at her.

"What more do you want to know, Belle?" I ask her. It is strange for me to feel like the most mature one in a group;the one in control. All week these three having me hanging on to my every word and acting as if I am the most interesting thing they've ever seen. I won't be too flattered; I'll bet they are fascinated by just about anything that isn't from the Capitol.

"No Erina! Don't listen to Belle, she's just stupid! We've heard that one! Tell us a new story!" Ember blurts out now and Belle gives an elaborate pout. These two are constantly bickering like tworivalling siblings, it's very funny. Ember is the most outspoken member of my prep team and she is always either very feisty or hyper. She has flaming pink hair and bright white teeth.

"Oh okay! Yeah, a new story Erina! Please, please,please. Tell us something while we fix your hair." Belle cries out in her piercing yet sweet tone and Ember adds, "Yes, because we will be here a while trying to untangle this mane!"

She smiles while she says it though. I don't mind anyway. They are rather nice to me even if their job is to make me look decent before I die. I know it isn't there fault and I feel sorry for my prep team because they don't really get to think for themselves. I don't even think they are any freer than those in the Districts. They too most follow the bidding of the Capitol and I very much doubt they want me to die. They are just brain washed like I once was; in to thinking that what they have to do is right and that they can't change it anyway.

"Erina, I want to know more about the mirror girl, please! Ember is just being bossy." Sparks pipes up now. He is much quieter than the two girls usually and isthe most serious of the group, despite the fact he has green spiky hair and is shorter than the two females. Belle and Ember engage in another dramatic bickering session and I just watch them smiling serenely. These three are like something out of a story themselves with their crayon coloured hair and theatrical personalities.

"Well, you do know it wasn't real? It was all in the girl's head. She did not truly have a friend who lived inside her mirror. It was a reflection of herself and all that she wanted to be but could not find the courage to do so. She imagined it in her head because she was lonely ..." I explain to the three chattering and cheerful prep team members and suddenly they go quiet.

They stay quiet for a while**.** Embers face screws up elaborately in confusion and Belle bites her lip as if in deep thought.

I don't think they really get it.

"Oh!" Sparks declares moments later and I can practically sense a light bulb going off inside his head. "So it was just in her head! That's really creative Erina!" I smile back at him.

It's the story of my life really. The lies are all make belief. It's just innocent and beautiful tales to cover up the ugly truth.

"Aw,but that's sad! I wanted it to be real! That she really did have a magical friend trapped in her mirror." Belle says and she does look sad**.**I am amazed by how important such trivial things are to her. Ember crosses her arms and is pouting again. "But that ruins it Erina! It's not as cool now if it isn't real."

Belle and Sparks both try to hush Ember and tell her she is being rude but I don't care. I just find it funny that they want it to be so real. "Anything can be real though, Ember! In here." I say while pointing to the position of her heart on her chest and then she smiles again appeased.

I wish it were true. And I suppose it can be. It is not hard to forget reality and to believe what is in your heart**;** I know thatonly too well.

"Well we've finally finished with you, Miss Harte." Sparks tells me and the two girls clap their hands and look at me like I am a piece of artwork that they are proud for creating.

"Good luck in your interview, Erina; we know you'll be brilliant**!**" Ember calls to me as they troop out of the room looking like three brightly coloured dwarves.

I'm left alone for a short time before Lita appears holding several packages and smiling brightly.

Lita is rather bizarre looking with her catlike yellowish eyes,pale lilac curls and exaggeratedly pale skin,but in comparison to my prep team, her personality is rather mellow and normal.

"Well it looks like the terrible triplets have actually outdone themselves, you look beautiful!"

I feel a slight blush creep upon my cheeks and I smile in genuine warmth.

Lita helps me get dressed quickly; apparently my prep team have left me running late with their antics.

Lita leads me by the shoulders to a full length mirror and she purrs in apparent delight, satisfied by her work.

I am wearing a pale golden dress made out of millions of tiny sequins, which falls to my knees and a pair of amazing black and studded cowgirl boots. I twirl around and do a little tap dance which makes Lita erupt in to fits of giggles.

"Come on you crazy girl, let's get you to the interviews now."

She leads me down to the entrance hall where I find Alexander there waiting for me. His own stylist, mentor, and escortmust have left but he has waited for me,which makes me happy. I must admit he looks rather handsome in a dark grey suit with his hair actually combed, though I do prefer it when it is left wild and messy because that's how it always is. I like it when people look like how they are supposed to.

He doesn't say anything to me**.** Lita motions us to follow her so I make the first move.

"Well then, let's go, Alexander." I say and extend my arm to him and he hesitates for a moment before linking his own in mine. He is smiling, something he doesn't do too often,although I have noticed he does smile at me sometimes.

"What?" I ask him, smiling back.

"You're the only person that has ever called me Alexander." He replies back simply.

"Oh, I am sorry. I can call you Alex if you like." Alexander just smiles again and tells me he likes it and then he mumbles something about it making him feel like I am the only person who really takes the time to know the real him. He doesn't say anything after that but his words makes me happy.

I also feel that way about him. I may have only just met him properly,but to me, he is the only person whoever looked at me like I am worth something. I think he sees the real Erina and I think he likes her.

Walking arm in arm with my district partner on the way to these interviews all I can begin to ponder what the future holds**.** There may only be two days until the Games begin,butI know that everything is about to change. Fate is getting ready to take control and drive me somewhere; wherever my final journey will end. But all I can focus on is now.

After all, in life, there is only today, then tonight and then tomorrow. And today, I am here in my golden dress, beside the one boy I feel actually sees the real me.

So if there is only tonight, then I will be eternally is magnificent.

Tomorrow can wait.


	27. Flawless Avail

**A/N- **Once we do hit the Games we will be going back to the three times a week schedule, but I am sure because of the long waits between some of these chapters, it's best to get these up as quick as possible. This is the first of the interview chapters, so I hope you enjoy! :D

* * *

**Interviews, Districts One-Four**

**Silver Hartford, District One Female**

_**Cashmere67**_

* * *

Everything hitherto in the Capitol has worked out precisely how I would ever want it to. It all inaugurated when I joined the Careers, intimidating tributes during training, and last but not least, my training score; a 10. A ten is notably impressive, if I may say so myself. But tonight is where everything matters. The interview; where I will gain sponsors, who could then help me in the games if I need anything. If I be my beautiful and charismatic self, I'll attract a multitude of sponsors.

My stylist, Hero, is mediocre at what he does. During the chariot rides, he dressed me in white short-shorts and a white bandeau. To enhance District One's decorum, he sprayed a variety of glitter onto my body and over the clothing. We should have gone with something more sumptuous, but it wasn't my decision.

I am rather fond of what he's decided to dress me in for the interviews, though. It's a short, gold dress that only goes down to my knees, with an exposed back and a neck line down to my bellybutton. It's nearly transparent and it shimmers under the light. Additionally, Hero has spaced out a few gold sequences on each of my eyebrows and has dyed my hair gold. It has enhanced my authentic pulchritude to render me even more desirable.

I angle the hand-held mirror, trying to see what I look like as a whole. "Why gold? Why not silver?"

"Gold is a glamorous color and it symbolizes wealth. Silver is drab and symbolizes modesty," Hero avows. He hands me the box Glitter gave me at the good-byes.

"Fair enough," I say, opening the box.

The ring that President Denelza Noire gave her after her victory is now in my possession. I slide my finger across the top of it and turn it towards the light. The word 'Dasher' appear and I can't help but smile to myself. This is what she gave me at the good-byes and this is what I must return to her.

Hero opens the door and we both proceed down the hallway. I incessantly adjust the ring on my finger and hold out my hand in front of me, attempting to see what position is optimum for the interviewer to see it.

I reach the waiting room and the 24 of us are all ushered into a straight line, where we will then go onto the stage and talk with the interviewer Jokle Marcellus, one by one. Most of the tributes are in hideous attire, but then there's me.

I'm the first one to go, and then it will be Zeo, followed by the rest of the Districts, with the female going first, then the male. Each interview will only last three minutes, so you should utilize the time given to your advantage.

My interview tactics were slightly challenging for Hero and his drudges, the Prep team, to decide. My mentor, Glitter, and escort, Venus, didn't show any solicitude. They told me to be myself, but that'd be _too_ simple to entice the audience with. My statuesque beauty is one concept that would allure the sponsors and my effervescent personality is another, but I wanted to do something more extravagant. The outfit he donned me with is the crux of my interview tonight; it will certainly make the audience adore me.

Jokle Marcellus, the man who's been interviewing each year's tributes since the First Hunger Games. Each year, he alters his appearance; either a different shade of hair or skin. He's not as menacing as he looked last year when he dyed his skin gray, with midnight black lips and eyelids.

Jokle's theme song begins, and he revolves in his chair, waving at the audience. This year, Jokle's hair is the color of honeydew and his eyelids and lips are coated in the same hue. He banters with the audience, and it only took a few seconds for them to go into a state of delirium; applauding and being highly animated.

"Welcome ladies and gentleman of Panem," Jokle exclaims, "To the interviews for the 13th annual Hunger Games!"

The audience breaks out into a vociferous cheer. Some audience members throw roses at him and he picks one up in his hand.

"Now, now, settle down. Let's see if she's just as precious as the metal! May I introduce our first tribute- representing District One," Jokle points to the side of the stage, "Silver Hartford!"

I strut onto the stage, angling my body towards the audience. I blow a few kisses towards the audience and make my way to the seat across from Jokle. I sit down in the seat, and shimmy my shoulders and I shift in my seat until I get into a tolerable position. I flip my hair once more coquettishly, and direct my attention to Jokle.

"Welcome, Silver," he hands me the rose and I place it on my lap.

"The pleasure's all mine," I remark.

He smirks, "How's the Capitol treating you? Is it like District One?"

"It reminds me of District One slightly; the pompous people and the splendid architecture."

I protract my shoulders and chest, ultimately trying to flaunt my outfit.

"Your outfit is outstanding. Who devised such a creation?" He asks, eyeing me up and down with a grin.

I tilt my head, letting my curled hair drop to the side, and giggle, "My pristine stylist, Hero. His ingenious mentality makes me envious."

He claps his hands once, and continues, "Now, when you volunteered, what was going through your mind?"

"I felt invincible. The idea of me becoming a victor was so viable. My chances of winning justified themselves when I received a training score of ten," I say vivaciously.

"How did you manage that?" Jokle responds.

I look directly into his eyes and smirk. "We'll soon find out, won't we?"

"Oh, what do we have here? A girl full of secrets? What else will you show when the time comes?"

"That not even Ape-Girl from Seven or The Rainbow from Eight can stop me."

He attempts to hold back laughter, "It seems you have carefully thought out each tribute. I am sure District One is very proud of what they produced at this moment."

"Who wouldn't be?" I wink at the audience.

"Speaking of District One, how did your family react to your volunteering?" Jokle asks.

"My mother, who's the head trainer in District One, was very proud of me volunteering, but I felt a lukewarm reception from her and my father. I don't think they can actually see me winning these games, except for Glitter," I say timorously.

"That's right! Now, does being a victor's cousin have its perks?"

"My cousin, the prestigious Glitter, has helped me in ways nobody could ever understand," I find myself reminiscing of the last training session on the day of the reaping. "She truly has."

I continue, "After seeing her games broadcast all over Panem, it was so clear to me; how I knew I would be the next victor. I will live carry on the legacy of my family, and nothing can stop me."

"How do you feel about the competition this year?"

"Subpar. Even the Careers don't deter my determination and ability to win these games."

He laughs fraudulently, "That's all the time we have! Once more for this magnificent tribute, Silver!"

"Tribute?"

He looks back at me, with a questioning glint in his eye.

"Or do you mean victor?" I rectify.

"There's the tenacious Silver Hartford we're all so affectionate of!" Jokle points to me and the crowd roars with chants and whistles.

As I leave the stage, Zeo passes me, "Break a leg."

Ironically, I actually mean it. If he were to break a leg, life would be so much easier. I can barely cope with him, but I know I have to hope for the best for him during the interviews – his sponsors will probably be mine as well.

I stand against the wall and begin talking to Hero. The conversation ceases when we hear Zeo begin to sing.

"There's a way to attract sponsors," I sneer in an impolite manner.

"Singing? How impressive," Hero snickers. "He can definitely sing me to sleep anytime he wants."

I'm aware he was a singer back in District One, but why would you perform here? Especially on the stage for the interviews. A talent in singing won't help you in the games, will they? I shrug it off; his death won't be significant to me. Zeo finishes and sits back down.

"You have a mighty fine talent," Jokle praises, "But what else can you do?"

"I'm a fighter," he boasts, "and I'm more than prepared for these games."

"What will differentiate you from the rest of the tributes?" Jokle questions Zeo's vigor.

Zeo adjusts his tie that is adorned with gem stones. "I'm clever and I know how to use weapons, which you probably know already from my training score."

Jokle nods, "You received a nine. Did you sing for them?"

Zeo flips his hair, "Nope. If I did, I would have received a twelve, and I didn't want it to be too unfair for the other tributes, especially my alliance. Even if Silver and Talon did better than me, I will still do what I do best."

Jokle licks his lips. "Isn't it ironic? There are two relatives of victors representing District One?"

"May the best one win," Zeo says hastily. "I'm here to win. I will follow in my brother's footsteps and become a victor. The Radonix family _will_ make history."

_We'll see,_ I think to myself. _May the best one win._

His buzzer goes off, signaling the end of his interview. Kaya prepares to go onto the stage. She's unique, to say the least. I have no doubt in my mind she'll do well in the games. She's a daredevil, which I greatly admire. Kaya is nothing compared to me, but she's obedient and doesn't bother me. Not as much as Zeo, anyway. Kaya and I haven't talked as much as Talon or Zeo, but she's still apart of the Careers.

She walks onto the stage, and you can quickly realize she has no intended strategy. She's hesitant on her words and some of the things she says are totally irrelevant.

"Now, Kaya, how is your alliance this year? Traditional Career alliance, perhaps?"

"We're a determined bunch. It'll be interesting to see how things turn out in the arena, especially with a member of our alliance from an outer District," Kaya remarks.

Jokle nods, "Ah, yes, Fir from District Seven."

"Nothing too frightful, though," Kaya grins.

"What do you fear, then, Kaya?" Jokle asks, and Kaya suddenly has an impending look on her face.

"What's there to be scared of? My shoe is more dangerous than these tributes," Kaya responds.

"Your shoe?" Jokle asks, evidently unaware of what she means.

With that, she takes off her shoe, and throws it at the crowd.

"A Career will win these games, and that Career will be me," she incites the crowd and they give her a standing ovation.

I hear a loud screech from someone in the audience and hear the doors open, and then get slammed shut.

Kaya doffs her other shoe and raises her arm to throw it, but a Peacekeeper reaches out to her and escorts her back behind the stage.

"See you in a few weeks!" Kaya calls out.

Talon, the boy from District Two, also received a ten for the private sessions. We, including the feeble girl from District Nine, have received the highest scores this year.

Talon's wearing a black suit, with a gray tie. He's handsome, but there's no place for relationships in the Hunger Games.

He walks on to the stage, with his shoulders broadened. He shakes Jokle's hand emphatically and slouches down in the seat, placing both of his arms on the two arm-rests.

"Welcome, Talon. How are you?" Jokle asks.

"Wonderful. The Capitol has been such an experience, and I'll never forget it when I return home," he says confidently.

"Return home? How are you so certain you'll become the victor?" Jokle chuckles, knowing the type of response he'll get.

"Did you see that ten?" Talon looks at the crowd, and they being cheering.

"And that ensures your victory? What about Silver and Rae?"

"Rae's just a nuisance I'll have to dispose of. But Silver, on the other hand, she'll be a challenge," he looks towards the side of the stage, where I'm standing.

_Get any thoughts regarding him out of your head, Silver. You cannot get attached to anyone you will inevitably have to lose. It's not salutary for my well-being; I'm here to conquer, not become infatuated with some fatuous boy. I cannot let anything hamper my victory._

We watch the girl from District Three, Neon, take her place on the stage. Is she even eligible to participate in the games? She looks as if she's ten years old. She's wearing a pale blue dress that puffs out at the bottom and has silver accessories. She appears frail, but the densely applied eye liner on her eyes gives her a trepid expression. She scampers onto stage and sits down, without making any eye contact with the audience.

"Neon?" Jokle asks, and she looks directly at him.

"There are those beautiful eyes we all wanted to see!" Jokle laughs.

He looks taken back by Neon's gruesome stare.

"Thank you," Neon murmurs.

She still has the ominous blank expression on her face. There are long pauses in between each of her answers.

"What will differentiate you from the other tributes, Neon?" Jokle leans his head on his hand.

"I-I'm observant," Neon whispers confidently.

"Observant?"

"I know what you have done and what you will do," she explains in a leisurely manner, "underestimate me and you overestimate yourself."

Jokle nods, "Very interesting. Last question- what is one thing you would like to say to the tributes this year?"

She looks up with her eyebrows narrowed, "Remember my name."

"That's all time we have for Neon! One last round of applause!"

Neon walks off the stage, and her District partner, James, says something to her, but she ignores him and continues walking. He looks back to see where she went, but is quickly escorted onto the stage by a Peacekeeper.

"Underestimate me," I mock.

"And you underestimate yourself," Hero retorts.

Venus puts her finger over her mouth and shushes us. Hero and I giggle to each other. She points to the screen and I notice Neon's District partner is about to begin his interview.

James Templesworth. He surpasses the others' uniqueness by a long shot. He wants to be a female, instead of a male. In District One, that's a simple request, but it is somewhat costly. Maybe in District Three they don't have the money to pay for such a transformation. To each his own, though. His personal desires are not significant to me. But, if changing genders has such gravity, he could just ask me questions. I could give him a few tips on how to be the ideal female. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a female like myself?

"Representing District Three; here is James Templesworth!" Jokle vociferates.

He saunters onto the stage, waving at the audience, "Hello, Jokle."

"Now the question everyone's wondering; what was your reaping about?" He laughs, and the crowd whoopees in return.

He uncomfortably shifts in his seat, "My _twin_, Ciarra."

"She's a lionhearted one, isn't she? Doing all of those perilous things to the Peacekeepers."

James looks up at him, without a response.

The crowd remains taciturn, until Caesar begins speaking again, and there is small chitter-chatter.

"So, James, how do you feel about your District partner?" Jokle says, adjusting his bowtie.

"Neon? She's dainty," James says with a grin, "even if we don't speak too much, I'll always be here for her."

James constantly looks back at the clock behind the stage. He's probably impatient; his interview is not going too well. There are many questions we all have a desire to know about, but I suppose it would be a good idea to not speak too much about the events at his reaping. When I watched his reaping, Zeo and I weren't sure what to think. Our mentors were speechless as well.

The buzzer goes off, and James speedily treads off of the stage. He passes me and mumbles something to himself. Now, it's District Four's turn; the other part of the Career this year. Oceava was a definite in the Career alliance, but we were skeptical about her partner, Azura-Jay. He possesses a disability that would affect his ability in the arena. He's blind, not to mention emotionally unstable.

Oceava makes her way onto the stage, in an elegant sea-green dress. She's the youngest asset of the alliance this year, at the age of 14. I have no doubt in my mind she'll attract sponsors, but not as many as me, because she's fairly good looking. Peerless to my beauty, though.

"How was life back in District Four, Oceava?"

"Well, I enjoyed spending my time fishing with my father back in District Four. It made me feel so tranquil," she replies.

"I have heard it's a beautiful place," Jokle says.

She smiles to herself, "You should see it aboard a boat sometime."

He continues, "Azura-Jay; your District partner. It seems you had a problematic encounter with him, did you not?"

"We did," Oceava says matter-of-factly.

"Will you forgive him?" Jokle raises an eyebrow.

She's hesitant with her response, "Maybe."

Her body terminology bespeaks that she is disoriented on her own response. Why would she forgive him? Forgiveness shows weakness; what's done is done. Perhaps she deluded us all into thinking that she is the sordid fighter we all thought a District Four volunteer would be.

Oceava leaves the stage, and Azura-Jay attempts to get onto it for his turn, but bumps into a few things on the way. A Peacekeeper offers assistance, but Azura-Jay shoos him away. He finally gets onto the stage, putting his hands in front of him to see if anything is in his way. Jokle stands up and guides him into the seat. The crowd claps out of civility and ruth.

"Do you deem your disability as a disadvantage in the games?" Jokle asks.

"No," Azura-Jay retorts, "Being blind is only a single loss. I've lived a solid fourteen years in darkness, so I think I can cope."

Shrugging, he said, "Is that so? I praise you for your brazenness, Azura-Jay. Don't we all?"

The crowd gives him a standing ovation, which Azura-Jay can't appreciate because he can't see it.

"Settle down. Is there anyone back home, Azura-Jay? Possibly a loved one?"

A vexed look appears on his face and mumbles something along the lines of 'Spritz'.

"Can you repeat that?" Jokle couldn't apprehend what he said the first time.

Azura-Jay stomps his foot and his fist into the chair, evidently becoming infuriated.

"No, I will _not_ repeat anything. This interview is over," he declares.

"You can't do that..," Jokle trails off and Azura-Jay storms off of the stage.

He turns the corner and proceeds down the hallway. I can't see where he went, but a few Peacekeepers went after him.

I sit down on the lucullan couch and lean back, playing with the sequences on my eyebrows. These interviews really prove who will be a robust competitor or not.

The only tributes that could be a challenge for me are Zeo and Kaya. Talon perhaps, but his coquettish personality emasculates his aptitude. District Three, or the diamonds in the rough in my eyes, won't do much, except act as obstacles obstructing my victory. Oceava, she's a contender for a competitor, but what I have seen at interview tonight will make me keep an eye on her; is she truly a Career? And lastly, Azura-Jay, the histrionic handicapped, who potentially upset the Capitol with his stunt during the interviews.

I spot Glitter, and she gestures for me to come with her. We proceed to the elevator and she presses the 1st floor button gently. She twiddles with her thumbs the whole way up. We arrive at the District One floor, and she walks towards the window. She breathes on the window and fogs it up, and then begins drawing random things with her finger.

"I can't bear with the fact that in a few days I can lose you, Silver," she mumbles faintly.

"I'll be fine, Glitter. Trust me on this one."

I wrap my arm around her and she nestles her head into my shoulder.

"Easier said than done," she snaps her head back, and orders an avox to turn on the television.

The District Five female is about to walk onto the stage.

"Besides, did you see my interview? I was immaculate!"

"Don't let this arrogance get to you. It can be a big problem," she informs, twirling her platinum blonde hair.

"What-" I was abruptly interrupted by Glitter.

"I hate to disappoint you," she counsels, "but I think volunteering was a big mistake."

I am bewildered by her last comment.

Call it vanity or arrogant presumption; I am acquainted with what I am capable of. I've accomplished so many things regarding the Hunger Games; my training score and this recent interview. I merit victory and I will do whatever it takes to fulfill that. I, Silver Hartford, will truly show my vigor in the arena. Someone as impeccable as me must possess a certain degree of insolence, or others will underestimate you.

Never underestimate me. I promise you will regret it.


	28. Authors Note

**Final A/N- **This collaboration now unfortunately has been discontinued, it will stay up as I don't want those people who did so much work to lose it. Reasons are explained on the forum, if you want to know why and who was going to end up as victor check it out.

Thanks to those who read this, your support means a lot. Be sure to check out Fourteen as I am positive it will go so much better.


	29. Authors Note 2

**A/N- **Thanks to Blue Eyes Arch Angel for giving me the idea I am going to be posting starting from Bloodbath Part Two (since Part One was never sent to me) onto this story. Only a few chapters were sent in, so deaths have happened that you won't see. The only reason I am doing this is because I do not want those authors who spent hard work for no one but me to actually see their work. So yeah I hope you enjoy (if you want to read that is) these chapters!


	30. Bloodbath Part Two

**Rae, District Nine Female**

**Bloodbath Part Two**

_**ImmyRose**_

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the thirteenth Hunger Games commence."

The Hunger Games announcer had barely managed to get out the last syllable of ''commence'' before I was off my plate and sprinting towards the nearest ladder. I ignore the archways that surround me; as soon as I had any reasonable supplies and had clambered my way out of the hole that the Cornucopia was presumably nested in, I would actually take them into consideration.

I don't even think before I lunge forwards and slide down the ladder railing. Attempting to climb up or down the ladder with the Careers around was tantamount to suicide. The predictable movements of which a ladder restricted you to wouldn't help me dodge a well-aimed knife or arrow, would it? Sliding down the railing, on the other hand, meant that I would be moving too fast to be hit, although the ability to evade weapons while sliding downwards was also limited. But what else was I supposed to do, disregard the ladders and jump off? That would be suicide.

Spotting a knife, I quickly run towards it, pick it up and keep going straight. I admire the knife that I had just picked up. The blade is quite long, at least eight inches, and the sharp edge of the curved blade looked perfect for hunting animals. And people. The handle had little indentations that were great for letting my fingers have a better grip on it. I shove it into my pocket, handle facing upwards so that I don't cut myself if I needed the knife.

Now I was truly prepared for whatever the Games were going to throw at me. If it were to be muttations or psychopathic Careers, I was ready to eliminate any threats that stood in my way.

I was not so ready for having a ginger kid running into me, however.

Before I can comprehend the situation, I'm knocked to the ground and my head is slammed into a rock. Quickly, I roll over to avoid any attacks that my next victim might try and aim at me but it turns out that I didn't need to bother since he wasn't paying me any attention. It was just like the Gamemakers ignoring me all over again. The comparison makes me scowl. Sure, I didn't have a decent weapon to attack the Gamemakers with but here, it was a free-for-all and this guy was my next target. Standing up, I observe him as he stares at something in the distance. Well, observing him properly was rather difficult since this guy, who I think is that weird District Five kid, was way taller and was only a few inches away from me. The fact that he's almost three years older than me didn't help. He looked like he had just seen a ghost, with creepily pale skin, ginger hair standing up on edge and green eyes which were widening at something.

Something that was right behind me.

I duck out of the way just in time as a sword swung through the air where my head had been just a second ago. Irritated, I spin around and take a couple of steps backwards so that I could see both tributes. Then I realise who my would-be killer was. Let's just say that I was surprised. Well, you would be if you realised that your wimpy district partner had just tried to kill you.

Great idea there, Derak. Take out your stronger competition while they were unaware of your presence. Which was an excellent tactic as far as the Hunger Games went. Hell, I was planning on using it myself but it was an awfully bad idea to make errors whilst doing that. Unless you wanted to deal with a furious tribute that was probably more skilled than you in combat. And from what little I knew of him, I could guarantee that Derak had no intention of annoying anyone. Reaching for the knife in my pocket, I curse quietly when my fingers brush air. That's when my eyes pick up a flash of silver just behind the District Five kid.

Great, it must have fallen out of my pocket. Derak's eyes flicker down to where the knife is and we crash into each other in our haste to grab it. I'm the one on top of him and I grab the knife with one hand while trying to get off Derak. He has a sword, after all, which could easily kill me now. Rolling off him while he was still slightly dazed from crashing into the floor, it occurs to me that the ginger kid, Zedock or something stupid, was still standing there, staring at us. Not like I held a grudge against people because of hair colours, but his hair would stand out like a neon signpost when the Careers were on the prowl. Oh well, not my problem. I was a little bit confused at why he was still standing there though.

_Why didn't he do anything? Why didn't he try to run? Why didn't he try to kill one of us?_

Those questions were quickly answered. He didn't appear to have a weapon and his curiosity had clearly gotten the better of him. Curiosity kills the cat, I suppose.

Besides, who wouldn't want to know if the big bad girl from District Nine was killed in the bloodbath by her district partner? And why bother doing anything when two of your competitors were trying to eliminate each other? Of course, I was clearly the bigger threat to his life right now. At least, that was what he was probably thinking, what with me crouched down with a sharp knife in hand, glaring at him. I probably looked like I was going to pounce on him and shove the knife into his throat. However, he was so busy perceiving me as the greater of the two evils to pay any attention to what Derak was doing. Well he wasn't until the sword hit him right in the head.

Scrambling to a standing position, I see that Derak is pointing the sword incompetently at Zedock. And when I say incompetently, I mean that he was clearly not going to be inflicting much damage. For one, he had whacked the handle of the sword over Zedock's head. If you didn't see a problem with that then maybe you should consider the fact that the handle of the sword was where you were supposed to hold it, meaning that Derak was holding the blade of the sword. You know, the sharp pointed side of the sword which you shouldn't be holding in your hand? Yes, it looked like Derak had decided to use his sword as a club.

Excuse me for a second while I bow down in awe to this genius move on Derak's part. Note the sarcasm there. If Derak had held the handle of the sword, then Zedock would have been dead by now. The swing had enough force behind it to do some serious damage if the sword was wielded correctly. However, Derak was not the brightest crayon in the box and therefore the tribute that he had tried to kill was relatively uninjured. Relatively. I'm pretty sure that Zedock would have some mild brain damage thanks to my district partner.

Said tribute looked pretty annoyed for a second before shoving Derak backwards. I don't think that he meant it in an offensive way. I don't think that he intended to hurt Derak too much, just distract him in a attempt to run away and live that _tiny _bit longer.

But intentions don't mean anything next to results, not in the real world.

Derak's head snapped back against a rock jutting out against the tunnels. There's a cracking sound and then his body slumps to the ground, grey eyes empty and unseeing. The look of surprise on his face is almost comical, as if he couldn't believe that something or someone so insignificant and pathetic had been instrumental in his downfall.

Well well well, who would have considered the quiet boy from District Five to have been a killer?

Evidently, said District Five tribute was not going to turn into one of those insane tributes who go on killing sprees after accidentally killing someone, if the dazed expression on his face was anything to go by. I grin at him viciously and he recovers enough to shoot me a look full of fear. Well, they did say that having somebody whack you over the head was enough to knock a little bit of common sense into anyone.

I nod my head towards the dead body, "Bit of a messy kill, don't you think?" I prepare to aim my knife towards Zedock's neck. It'll be a nice, simple shot. He's not even five metres away from me and he won't feel a thing, "Maybe I should show you how it's done." Before I can do or say anything else, he sprints off down another tunnel.

That's the last time I'm going to try and talk to the enemy.

Briefly, I consider pursuing him but then decide against it. With his abnormal height and bright hair, it wouldn't be long before someone else finds Zedock. And why bother putting in the effort when the Careers would be far more willing and able to do so? With this in mind, I take the tunnel next to the one where Zedock had evaded me. The Cornucopia was probably nestled somewhere in this tunnel system.

To be honest, I wasn't really a fan of the tunnels the Capitol had decided to use, since you could hardly see

three feet in front of you. Anybody could be here and you wouldn't see it coming. However, no one would be able to see me either. For a second, I consider the irony of literally running into your killer but then quickly dismiss that thought. If anybody should be worried about running into their death, it was the other tributes. The darkness would only help conceal my small, lithe figure in shadows, which gave me the edge I needed to kill whoever crossed my path. And they said that being short wasn't an asset. Ha, I beg to differ. Just how was being tall supposed to help you hide when you were being chased? And did it really make a difference just how tall you were when the Careers demanded a fight? Because I don't think that it did.

The tunnel seemed to curve slightly along to the right, if the muted glow of light coming from that direction was any indicator. There must be an opening in that direction which would most definitely lead to the Cornucopia. And if anybody decided that they wanted to try and intercept me, well I had a knife now.

A knife which would be used sooner than expected, I realise as a figure steps out from the shadows, blotting out the little light that had been illuminating my path. Since that was the side where my functioning eye was turned towards, my peripheral vision was not limited too much by the lack of decent lighting and the fact that I only had one eye, for all intents and purposes. Narrowing my eyes, I swiftly lunge forwards and shove my knife into where I estimated the heart would be. However, I put too much force into the movement and I fall on top of the mystery tribute as they collapse to the floor. Now that nothing is blocking the light, I can see the Cornucopia in the distance. I can also see who the person I just killed is. Getting up, I pull out the knife from the body as I allow the light to illuminate my victim.

The first thing I notice is that my first kill in the arena was a girl. I guess that some people would call her pretty but that fact really didn't count as important in my head. What registers next is my knife in the girl's stomach. It would be hard to miss that detail since blood was leaking steadily from the wound, soaking into her jumpsuit and staining her brown hair black. Her mouth was open slightly and it was stark clear that even though I had underestimated her height, my knife had punctuated something vital, if the thin trickle of blood running out of the girl's mouth and down her chin was anything to go by.

However, the most disturbing thing about the whole thing was the eyes. There was something very off-putting about looking into a pair of dead eyes. Especially ones that were a strange amber gold colour to begin with. They still were that colour, I suppose, but once, those eyes had held nothing but arrogance and contempt for any non-Career tribute. Now they were flat, the body having failed them and succumbed to death.

It was Oceava. The District Four girl. Part of the Career pack. And just fourteen years old.

I wait for guilt to kick in, for me to break down and scream how much I regretted killing this girl who probably had a dozen adoring siblings waiting for their big sister to come home. Nothing happens, not like I was expecting it to. Unlike most people, I didn't find killing to be something to be used as a pity card or something to gloat about. It was a natural thing in life and should be treated as such.

Death was as normal as the sun rising so why try and shun it, why try and ignore it? We all died anyway and in the end, did it really matter how long you had on this planet? Just as long as you had made your existence count for something, just as long as you actually had the chance to appreciate life for what it was, then what was the point of complaining?

Despite my logic, I knew from personal experience that wasn't how most people worked. They made death out to be the scary monster that should be hated and feared. But what was the point of fearing the inevitable? How was that going to help you?

I guess it didn't matter. Killing was a universal thing, whether it was a deer you had been hunting or a human – all it took was a knife sliding across their throat and they were silent, never able to feel pain or misery again. They really should consider it a favour to them, except that they would be too dead to thank me.

Nudging the girl with my foot, I'm convinced that she's dead when she doesn't respond. Good, she must have died nice and quick then. Now, if only the rest of the Careers were as easy to take out them the Hunger Games would be a breeze. I doubted it though; she had only received an eight and most of the other Careers had scored nine or higher.

Yeah, lowering the Career pack was not going to be a stroll in the park. But I guess that I should worry about that later when I got out of here and had time to think about what I was going to do next then.

Plastering a smirk on my face, I wipe the knife clean on my jumpsuit before running the short distance to the end of the tunnel. I guess I could have run straight to the middle of the Cornucopia but I doubted that I would have escaped the notice of the three Careers that had beaten me to it. While their attention was diverted to their fellow Career who had arrived at roughly the same time as me, I hid behind a large box of supplies. Probably not the smartest thing that I've ever done but it stopped them from finding me. Poking my head out from behind the box, I can see the District One girl and the Career from Seven facing each other.

"Fir! Wait here, I'll be back with the others." I hear the girl order and I notice the District Seven boy scowl slightly at being ordered around. However he complied, walking over to where the third Career – the girl's counterpart from District One – was searching though the supplies in the corner. I waited until both of the tributes were turned away from me before quietly sneaking out and taking a backpack. I don't dare try and slip it onto my back for fear of rustling the contents inside the backpack and alerting the two Careers to my presence. Instead, I quickly scurry over to a tunnel that was opposite to the one I had made my 'grand' entrance in. Running my hand along the wall to orientate myself in the darkness, it occurs to me that the sound of fighting tributes is getting quieter. Everybody – the people that are still alive, that is – must be leaving. Looks like I'd better get a move on before the Careers run out of people to massacre.

* * *

Running out of the end of the tunnel, backpack securely fastened onto my back, I'm relieved to find that the bloodbath is still in full swing. Talon, the boy from District Two, is eyeing Winter with a malicious glint in his eyes while his district partner is running after someone that is on the opposite side of the hole to me. Meanwhile, the girl from District Eight is clambering up a ladder near the tunnel that I had just exited. As I run to the ladder next to her, I can already tell that she's going to get away from the chaos unscathed. Lucky for her, I had just personally guaranteed that the bloodbath had claimed at least one victim. Specifically, the District Four girl.

Scowling, I started the ascent up the ladder as quickly as I could, all the while being aware of the fact that anybody could pick up a knife and throw it at my head without much difficulty. My back was protected by the supplies that I was carrying but my arms, legs and head were completely open to attack. As I think this, a knife lodges itself into the wall where my foot had been just a couple of seconds ago. Too bad I don't have enough time to stop and pick it up; who knows if the person who threw it had any more to spare? Obviously, I was hoping that they didn't but I didn't want to risk it. Or did I?

Hitching the backpack so that most of my head was covered and climbing down a rung, I keep a tight grip on the ladder with one hand and leaned back to retrieve the knife with my other. Yanking it out of the dirt wall, I feel a slight thudding sensation as a knife gets caught in my backpack, followed by a stream of curses. Clearly, somebody was in a charitable mood. Well they must be if they were willingly giving me my preferred weapon twice over. Twisting around to continue climbing up the ladder, I stick my newly acquired knife into my pockets along with my hunting knife for convenience's sake. There wasn't very many other places where I could actually put them, unless I decided to attack my backpack by shoving the knives into it, which would look a little bit weird. However, no more knives are hitting me, meaning that my attacker must have run out of weapons to throw. Fine by me then, although it meant that I had less knives at my disposal.

Stepping onto the main area where the pedestals stood, it occurs to me that I have no idea what the archways represent. Only three of them were open; the archways with the numbers four, five and seven above them. I guess it made no difference to me; all of them would contain dangers, wherever it'll be mutts, tributes or simply being caught unaware by unfamiliar territory. Either one of those archways could lead to my life or death. With that in mind, it would make sense to stop hanging around here and run towards one. Instinctively, I sprint towards the nearest archway, the one with the number 'five' labelling it. As I pass through and leave the main area, I catch a flash of black hair as another tribute ran away. Well, it looked like I wasn't the only tribute to have picked this area then. And I could take an educated guess at who it was from that one brief glance I had of them.

I might not know if this passageway was leading me to my death or not but I could guarantee that the tribute which I had just seen was running towards his death whichever direction he took here. As soon as I caught up with the District Twelve boy then I'll show him that he feared death just like the next person did.

It's life or death now, here in this arena. We'll see just how high and mighty _Aamon_ is when I come knocking at his door with death as a present. Although I'd doubt that he'd be willing to wait for me to find him. That's fine then – I had never gotten to play hide-and-seek as a child but I could start now.

Ready or not, here I come.


	31. Bloodbath Part Three

**Alexander Finch, District 10 Male**

**Bloodbath Part Three**

_**Written by Cashmere67, submitted by LexisZ-10**_

* * *

"_Ladies and gentlemen! Let the 13__th__ annual Hunger Games begin!"_

Before the Hunger Games announcer, Otho Orculum, managed to complete his sentence, the girl from Nine had already leaped off of her platform. I quickly follow her motion; I take the biggest leap possible and begin sprinting towards the center of the circular room. I glance to one side of the room and see a few archways, but I must see what's at the bottom of this hole first before I go near any of those.

This must be where the Cornucopia is – or, that's what I thought there would be. At the bottom of the hole there are a few supply boxes, weapons, and backpacks, but not the actual Cornucopia. Nothing too valuable is placed down here; there are only things to get a Bloodbath started.

The only way down are by these ladders, but how safe can this be? If someone gets their hands on a weapon before I get down there, they can quickly kill me.

I latch myself onto the ladder, looking down at the center of the hole constantly. Rae, Silver, Zeo and Fir have already made their way down there. Luckily, they aren't paying too much attention to me. Only if we could keep it that way.

The girl from Six, Jade, makes her way down there as well. Fir notices her arrival and takes action – Fir grabs the closest axe and launches it at Jade. It skims Jade's outfit, ripping a piece of cloth off. Angered, Fir dashes towards Jade, and before she can escape, he lodges the ax into her shoulder. She screeches and falls to the ground, and just as Fir attempts to make his first kill, she rolls to the side and instantly gets up.

She's my ally, but there's not much I can do. I don't to want anger the Careers this early in the games, especially when they are all down here. I'm sure she can make it out of here alive and then I will worry about her.

I make it to the bottom of the hole and look at Fir one more time. He throws the ax at Jade, but it lands next to Jade as she's climbing up the ladder. I hesitantly move forward, knowing he still has an intention of killing someone after letting Jade get away. He begins searching through a backpack, but Silver grabs him and they go into one of the tunnels.

There is a small supply box a few feet in front of me and that's what I set my mind on getting. I can carry such a small box, but I have another priority as well – find Maia. I grab the supply box and go towards the tunnels, but I then hear a loud _thud_.

It's Erina. She had tripped over the large boulder while trying to get back up the ladders. I contemplate helping her, but I can't. If I go near her, I know I will regret it. Erina is not my ally, Maia is, and that's who I need to find. Erina crawls on the ground a few inches, but she knows it's no use. Alyssa notices her and helps her up. Alyssa wraps her arm around Erina and puts her on the ladder. As Erina begins to climb, Alyssa puts her hand under Erina and helps her by pushing her up.

I back up a few inches, but then I see a small figure coming my way. It's Maia, who seems to have two knives in her hand and one of the smallest backpacks around her back.

"Alex! Alex!" Maia shouts in her petite voice, hurrying towards me.

I hold out my hand, "Hurry up Maia!"

Maia grabs my hand and I gently pull her. I put the supply box under my right arm, with Maia in my left hand. I don't bother looking back to see all of the violence in that massacre.

"We must get out of here, it's not safe," I say, pulling my arm in closer so Maia is close to me.

I see long strands of black hair, but then they disappear into a room. I hold out my arm and I begin tiptoeing towards the room. The District Eleven female, Ariella, made her way into the room and continues walking further into the room. There is a raised piece of ground a few feet in front of her. I open my mouth to tell her that it's a pressure plate, but I quickly decide against telling her. She isn't a part of my alliance, nor would her survival be important to me.

Ariella steps on the plate and there are loud sounds of cracking. Dirt begins to fall, but then so do small pieces of rock. Starting from the back of the room, it begins to collapse. Her eyes widen and she begins sprinting back towards the door she went into. She sees me standing here and holds out her hand.

"Help!" Ariella screams, but to no avail.

A piece of rock lands on her shoulder and she falls to the ground. Before she can get up, her body is smothered by rock, ultimately killing her. Being crushed by rocks is a terrible death. I would never like to be killed in that way – or any way, for that matter.

"What happened?" Maia asks, peeking into the room.

"Nothing," I give Maia a gentle push.

Maia looks back into the room again and picks up a piece of rock. She examines the piece of rock and stuffs it into her backpack.

"Catch me if you can!" Maia squeals with excitement.

She begins sprinting forward and I follow her. I catch up to her and pick her up in my arms. I spin in circles for a few seconds, until I get dizzy. I place her down back on the ground and run my hand through her hair.

She stops at the entrance of another tunnel and points down it. "Can we go down this one?"

This tunnel is much longer than the others, and I can definitely see something at the end of it. Could this be where the Cornucopia is located? Oh, Maia, if it is, you just saved us!

I nod, "Sure. Just be careful, a lot of people probably have been down this way too."

We are directly against the wall as we walk down this tunnel, only because no one will see us in the shadows. I, of course, take the lead, while Maia trails behind me. From where we are, I can see an oddly built object. The top is arched towards the top of the room and it leads into a large object on the floor.

"The Cornucopia," I whisper.

"Is it really?" Maia asks excitedly.

We get to the end of the tunnel, but we're facing the side of the Cornucopia. Zeo and Fir, two members of the Career alliance, are already there, but so is someone else. At the opposite side of the room there is the District Nine girl, Rae, scampering around the two Careers. She's quick and agile, which makes it easy for her to go around the Careers. The two Careers are paying no attention to the supplies in the Cornucopia, so this is my chance. Though, I cannot be the one to go to the Cornucopia. I need someone much smaller – like Maia.

"Maia, can do you what she's doing?" I point at Rae.

"I can't. I'll get caught if I go anywhere near them!" Maia widens her eyes. "Those are Careers!"

"You have to try. I promise you will be fine," I get down on my knees and put my hand on her shoulder.

She shimmies her shoulders, "I'm not sure, Alex!"

"I promise you will be fine, Maia. I promise."

She gulps, "I guess I can try; just for you, Alex, since you promised I will be okay. But can I wait until Rae is gone? She's scary!"

"Of course. Now listen to me – you have to be _very _quiet. It'll be like hide-and-seek," I say.

She smiles, "I'm good at that! I won't let any of them see me!"

I tell her it'll be like one of those games kids used to play in order to make it seem not as scary. It will be difficult, but I have faith in Maia.

Rae is finished getting what she needs and hurries back out of the room. When I make sure she has definitely left, I point at a few backpacks near the edge of the Cornucopia.

"That's what you need to get, Maia. Understand? They'll be light and you will be able to carry them all," I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly.

"Don't worry! I love hide-and-seek. Now, close your eyes and count to five!"

I close my eyes, but not all the way so I can still see Maia. "1… 2… 3… 4… 5."

I open my eyes and Maia is making her way to the Cornucopia. She constantly looks at the Careers and me. I give her a thumps up and she gives me a thumbs up back. She has now made her way to the Cornucopia.

Thankfully, Zeo and Fir have not seen her. Maia looks at the tunnels, and I look as well. A few new voices come into the room. It's the rest of the Careers – Silver, Kaya, and Talon. I wave my hands, gesturing for her to hurry back much faster.

Maia grabs the four backpacks and begins to quietly come back to me, but the Careers' voices are getting much louder and she panics. She looks at me, with fear in her eyes. I give her another thumbs up and mouth the words 'You're fine' to her. She narrows her eyes and begins walking back to me much faster.

Maia has just proven something to me – her bravery and maturity. Even if she is only fourteen, she really does have what it takes to do well in the games. She can hide well and she is quick on her feet. I'm glad I chose her as my ally, I truly am. She definitely won't let me down, so I cannot let her down. I must do anything for her, just like she would do anything for me.

Just as she makes it back, I grab her and pull her forward. These backpacks will definitely be enough for the moment. I stay there for a second to see what the Careers are about to do.

Silver walks into the room and automatically begins to yell a few things at the rest of them. We can obviously see who the leader in the alliance is. They all scowl and begin picking up and collecting the supplies. Zeo, the boy from One, goes near the area where Maia just was. Since he was the first one to be here, he must have looked at all of the supplies. If he sees anything missing, I know he will come down one of these tunnels to see who it was. I decide it's time to go because I can't risk being spotted.

"Let's head out, it's not safe here anymore," I take the backpacks out of Maia's hands.

I open the backpacks Maia had just acquired – one has some food supplies, one has small knives, one has some medical supplies, and the last one is empty.

"Did I do well?" Maia asks with a proud smile upon her face.

"You did very well," I respond and she giggles to herself.

We turn a corner and Maia is panting heavily. She leans against a wall and puts her hand on my chest.

"One minute! Let me catch my breath!"

I look over both of my shoulders, "I'm not sure we have time for this, Maia. We need to go."

She nods and reluctantly begins walking again. I wish we had the time to stop and rest, but I can't risk letting someone kill her. I hear the sound of someone breathing heavily and loud footsteps. Maia hands me one of the knives she acquired and I place it in my left hand.

"Wait here," I put my hand out in front of her and walk forward.

It goes quiet for a second, and that's when I hear a muffled squeal. I whip my head around and see the male from District Three, James, on top of Maia. He hasn't noticed me, but I know what he is about to do. He raises the mace above his head and before he can bludgeon Maia, I launch the supply box at him.

The box hits him in the back of the head and the mace goes flying to the right of him. James falls off of Maia and lies on the floor, rubbing his head.

"Maia! Come here, now!" I shout rather loudly.

Maia scampers over to me and hides behind me. I try to wield my knife in front of me, but I must have thrown that as well. I look next to James, and there is my knife. How lucky am I?

James looks where I was just looking at sees my knife. He grabs it and shakily stands back up.

"I don't want to do this, James," I raise my fists, cautiously looking at his every move.

"I'm the one with the weapon, aren't I?" James takes a few steps closer to me.

"Back up! I'm warning you!" I shout furiously.

James points the knife directly at Maia and begins to charge at her. Before he gets any closer, I run right into him, pushing both of us onto the ground. I am on top of him, but my grasp on him is weakening from his squirming.

"Get off of me!" James yells directly in my face.

I cover his mouth with my hand, putting as much pressure as I possibly can on it. He raises the knife and attempts to cut me with it, but I dodge his attack and then fall off of him. He gets up and begins charging at Maia again, but before he can make any other movement, I grab his foot and pull him down. He is now lying on his stomach and I sit on top of him.

"Maia. Please, close your eyes," I say, sounding as gentle as possible.

Maia detaches the backup form her back and holds it in front of her eyes. "Will do!"

I lower my head and whisper into James' ear, "This is your fault."

James tries to say something to me, but I shove his face into the dirt more, not allowing him to speak. I grab him by his head and raise it higher. I take a deep breath and then wrap my hands around his head. As much as I don't want to do this, I have to. He is a threat to Maia's and my own safety.

I dig my nails into his skin and a few droplets of blood begin to slide down his neck. He moans in pain, but that makes me tighten my grip around his neck even more. I angle James' neck and then snap it in one quick hand movement.

_Crack._

His head falls forward and his face falls back into the dirt. I get off of him, but make sure to keep his face in the dirt. I grab the knife he attempted to attack me with and put it in my boot.

I don't need to have Maia crying about any of this. I grab Maia's shoulder and I make sure she can't turn her head.

"What happened?" Maia asks, attempting to turn her head, but my arm is in the way.

"Don't worry, Maia. Everything will be fine."

"Wait! I have something for you!" Maia shoves her hand in her backpack.

"Yes, Maia?" I ask her, not knowing what she is about to give me.

Maia has something in her hand, but she covers it with the other one. She reveals what's under her hand – the rock that she took from where Ariella died.

"This is for you! For being so brave," she places the rock in my hand.

"Thank you, Maia," I wrap my arm around her.

She nestles her head into my shoulder and we continue walking. We turn the corner we had previously turned. Without paying attention, Maia nearly steps on a rock, but she misses it by a few inches.

"Are you okay?" I get down on my knees and feel her foot.

She nods, "I always am, aren't I?"

Maia pokes me in my cheek and I laugh heartily. I poke her in her stomach and she giggles.

Maia's encounter with a rock only reminds me of Erina's injury. I wonder how she is doing. Her tripping over that boulder must have been painful. I'm surprised she made it back up those ladders after such an injury. But that's Erina for you.

_Erina Harte_. She really has grown on me since the reaping. We could have allied, and I would have loved to, but it wouldn't be the right thing to do. If anything were to happen to her, it would be my responsibility and I would feel extremely guilty.

Erina is the only person I truly feel comfortable around. Maia, too, but Erina is different. She lets me be myself and she appreciates who I am. Erina's special to me and no one can take that feeling away.

What if something does happen to her? Who would be there to protect her? Not me, that's for sure.

Maia tugs on my sleeve, "Where are we going now?"

"To those archways," I reply.

"Will we meet Jade, Dale, and Harrison there?"

"I hope so," I say, slightly worried.

Did they even make it out of the Bloodbath alive? I know Jade did, but she got a severe injury. I hope at least one of them did.

We make it back to the hole where we first were and we begin climbing up the ladders. At the top, I see Jade standing in front of the archway with a '7' inscribed on it.

Only three of the archways are open; the ones with a '4', '5', and '7' inscribed on them. There are twelve separate ones altogether, but not all of them are open. Whatever is in them, I know it will act as a challenge for me and my allies. But I will not let anything stop me from here on out. Not even those Careers, or anyone else for that matter.

"Have you seen Dale or Harrison?" Jade leans against the wall behind her.

"No," I say. "Have you?"

Jade grabs her shoulder, "I haven't either. Do you have any medical supplies in those backpacks? One of the Careers got me pretty badly."

Maia walks over to Jade and begins wrapping her shoulder in bandage. Them working together is a good sign – we must work together to do well in the games. We must have each other's back at all times. Jade and Maia: I promise we will get through this together.

If we're the only three left from our original alliance, the others definitely died then. Where else could they be? Talking with the Careers? If my allies died that quickly, will I die that quickly too?

May the odds be ever in my favor.


	32. Bloodbath Part Four

**Silver Hartford, District One Female**

**Bloodbath Part Four**

_**Cashmere67**_

* * *

_60 seconds._

The foremost thing I notice is the immense hole in the center of all the tributes. We are placed in large circular room that is tiled with dark gray squares, which complements the scarce amount of lighting. There are twelve archways, all inscribed with a number.

_50 seconds._

I scan my competitors, observing their body movements and facial expressions. Alyssa, the female from District Five, is to my left. I stare directly at her, and she looks back at me. She tenses up, and promptly looks back at the gaping hole in the center. Her facial expression bespeaks a sense of fear and dismay; pure weakling.

_40 seconds._

I look to the right of me; it's Rae, the female from District Nine. I could pursue her, she's nothing special. But that training score of 10- what is she actually capable of? She keeps sending superior looks towards Talon, who peers back haughtily. She looks at me, and then smirks arrogantly. That's the last thing you should do, sweetheart.

_30 seconds._

I set my mind on acquiring a weapon. Preferably a spear, but anything will be satisfactory at this moment. I need to make at least one kill, or else I won't feel I impressed my mother and father. What are they doing right now? Sitting down, waiting as the 24 of us prepare to initiate the Bloodbath.

_20 seconds._

What about Glitter? She's probably sitting around a television with Venus and Hero, talking about who they think will perish in the Bloodbath. Did she sincerely mean what she aforesaid to me the night of the interview? I will prove to you that volunteering was the right thing for me to do, Glitter. Mark my word.

_10 seconds._

My hair is in Heidi braids; simply to keep it out of my way when the games begin. I adjust the jacket of my black jumpsuit we were all donned in. I put the tip of the ring in my two fingers. I gently kiss the top of it, and then get into a ready position. I must be the one of the first people to make it down that hole.

_9 seconds._

_8 seconds._

_7 seconds._

_6 seconds._

_5 seconds._

_4 seconds._

_3 seconds._

_2 seconds._

_1 second._

"Ladies and gentlemen! Let the thirteenth annual Hunger Games commence!"

The silence is shattered by Otho Orculum, the Games announcer. I take a big leap off of the pedestal and direct my course to the hole. Evenly spread out around the whole are 12 ladders- 12 ladders for 24 tributes.

I have made it to the hole and look to see if anyone's near me, and there's Fir, inching closer and closer to where I am positioned. I wave my hand, gesturing for him to run at a faster pace. He clenches his eyes and sprints towards me.

"Let's go!" I point at the ladder, expecting him to climb down first.

I scrutinize all of my surroundings. The archways- what could they mean? Only a few of them are open; specifically the archways with the numbers 4, 5, and 7 inscribed on them.

Fir punches the ladder a few times to get my attention. I begin climbing down, but realize it's taking too long. I put my feet on the railing and slide down the ladder. I make a beeline for the first backpack I can find. I grab it and continue sprinting forward.

There are two tributes fighting over a machete and backpack. I'm hesitant at moving, but I decide to refocus my attention on the task at hand. My first kill can wait, since my curiosity is getting the best of me. There has to be an actual Cornucopia somewhere down here.

Just before I go into the maze, I notice Fir searching through a supply box. I grab his arm, forcing him to come with me.

We entered a random tunnel, where it was extremely muddy and earthy. The lightning in the tunnel was much duskier than the room we began in. It was nearly pitch black, but there was an unseen light source; probably one of the many tricks the Gamesmakers have up their sleeves.

I look down at the '13' stitched onto the black jumpsuit I was donned in. My jumpsuit felt grimy for some reason. I wipe off the excess dirt particles and shimmy my whole body.

"Where are we going?" Fir asks, attaching an extra throwing axe onto a belt he acquired.

I shrug. "Let's see what else is down here, why don't we?"

I open the bag I grabbed from the supplies. Inside, there is a pair of brass knuckles and a few darts. The darts were plausibly intended to go with a blowgun, but I can still use them to my advantage.

We turn the corner, and there are several more openings to choose from. I stop and hold out my hand, attempting to decide which tunnel would be most beneficial to go down.

"It has to be down here somewhere," I mumble to myself.

"What has to be?" Fir questions.

"The Cornucopia? Those supplies can't possibly be the only ones down here," I say matter-of-factly.

I equip the brass knuckles and point to the tunnel all the way to the right. We venture down the tunnel circumspectly. You never cognize when a mutation can suddenly attack you, or even another tribute for that matter.

"There it is! Silver, look!" Fir exclaims and points to the end of the tunnel.

I haste towards the end and realize he is correct. There is the Cornucopia, full of the desirable supplies, not those indecorous and provisional weapons. When we get there, Zeo's already there, arranging supplies.

I place the bag down and doff the brass knuckles. I grab the first spear I find and begin sprinting back towards the initial supply location.

"Fir! Wait here, I'll be back with the others!" I vociferate.

I only make it a few feet when I step in something peculiar; it is much softer than the rest of the mud in this maze. It's at the foremost point of another tunnel entrance. I bend down and rub my fingers through it. Is this blood? But, whose blood could this be? I hear a faint moan coming from inside the tunnel, but whoever it is doesn't merit my tending. It's virtually futile if they have lost this much blood.

I tread towards the initial supply area. I depart from the maze and I am standing in the corner of hole and there are still a few stragglers at the supplies. Winter, the female from District Twelve, is making her way up the ladder.

Talon notices her and chuckles to himself. He readies and arrow on his bow string and aims at her neck. She is incognizant of what is going to happen next, so she is still climbing at the same pace. Talon releases the arrow and it lodges itself in Winter's neck. She manages to make her way up the ladder, but she's severely injured. Talon shoots another one out of desperation.

I count the amount of people left at the supplies; two. Just Kaya and Talon are left. But where's Oceava?

"Any idea where Oceava is?" I ask, grabbing a spear and wiping off the mud from the tip.

Shrugging, Kaya aforementioned, "Who knows- she could have abandoned us?"

Talon smirks, "Or she could have died in the Bloodbath?"

Talon is abruptly interrupted by the sounds of cannons, signaling the amount of deaths there were today.

**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**

"Six," Kaya utters.

"_Only six," _I rectify.

Talon puts his bow over his shoulder and shoves his foot in the mud. "Where were you?"

"Finding the Cornucopia? But, if I knew only kill six people would be killed I would have stayed," I sneer.

I hastily begin walking towards the tunnel I previously went into. I turn my head and gesticulate for them to follow me. I run the tip of the spear along the tunnel walls to startle anyone that's near here. From the corner of my eye, I see Kaya patting herself down.

"Is everything okay, Kaya?" I say pleasantly.

"Just great. It's only a scratch from Aamon," she says reassuringly.

We resume with our course towards the Cornucopia. We enter the part of the maze that Fir and I were at earlier, before we found the correct tunnel that led to the Cornucopia. This is also where I found someone's blood.

Should I tell them about the blood trail from earlier? That could have been Oceava's. I decide against it; there isn't much we could do if it is in fact her.

"That one," I say, pointing to the one furthest from us.

We arrive at the Cornucopia and Zeo and Fir are still there, searching through the supplies. I put down my spear and grab two knives; I don't think anything will happen anytime soon, so minimal self-defense will suffice. Talon goes to the other side of the Cornucopia to see what else is there and Kaya searches for some medical supplies. She received a petty wound during the Bloodbath.

I hear a supply box tip over and the male from eight emerges from behind it. He dashes away from the Cornucopia and heads for one of the tunnels. He doesn't even make it five feet before I tackle him to the ground. We roll around in the mud for a minute, until I get a firm grasp on him.

"Where do you think you're going, 8?" I take a stiletto knife out from my pocket.

I press the knife against his neck and little droplets of blood begin to seep out of the slit. I simper callously.

"Wait! Wait!" He shouts and I withdraw my knife from his neck and get off of him.

"I can help your friend!" He points at Kaya and prudently walks over towards her. "You're injured and I can help you."

Kaya rolls her eyes and spits in his face. She grabs him by his shoulders and twists him around, and then pushes him back to me. He falls onto his hands in front of me and I lift up his head with my knee.

"Thank you for the offer and concern, 8, but we don't require any assistance," I hiss.

I look up at my fellow Careers, "May I have the pleasure?"

They all nod, awaiting my next move. Now, how should I kill you, Harrison? This must be unforgettable since you're my first kill.

"Fir, Talon, grab ahold of our friend here," I command.

Fir and Talon stand him up straight and grab ahold of an arm. They each pull an arm to align his body. I swagger over towards a throwing axe and equip myself with it.

I caress his cheeks," Did Tabitha not teach you anything? You should know not to intrude on the Careers."

I slide my finger down his neck, and then place my fingers right on his Adam's apple. I clench my fist, but extend my pointer and middle finger. I emphatically jab my two fingers into his Adam's apple. He chokes, while gasping for air. His body tenses up, and he gets a frightened look on his face.

"Now that you're settled in," I deride.

Pressure points are only one of my several fortes. But this one – the Adam's apple of the male – is one of my preferred pressure points. If done properly, it can severely damage the throat.

"You know, Glitter always pestered me about training with throwing knives," I say, biting the tip of the knife's blade.

I grasp the handle of the axe in my hands and rub my thumb up and down the side of it. I raise the axe upwards and put all my weight and power into my right arm. I snap my arm forward, releasing the axe in the process. It lands in Harrison's abdomen, and he arches his back.

"Argh!" He squeals.

"That's unfortunate. My aim isn't as precise as I'd like it to be," I ridicule myself.

I flip the stiletto knife open and closed several times. The blood is pouring out of his abdomen and he begins regurgitating some blood as well.

I turn my head towards Kaya, "Any preferable target, Kaya?"

"The heart," she says with a malign grin.

"Blow mommy one last kiss, Harrison," I jeer before throwing the knife into his heart.

Fir and Talon release Harrison and his body slumps down to the ground. He lies in a pool of blood and his body twitches for the last time before he goes utterly defunct.

**BOOM!**

"That makes seven," Zeo affirms.

"Any idea on who died?" I direct my question towards Zeo, Kaya, and Talon.

"I got one- the male from District Eleven," Zeo boasts.

"That's it?" I roll my eyes. "Let's set up camp at the original supply area. We'll figure out what to do from there."

I grab an empty large backpack and fill it with anything I would need; food, weapons, medical supplies. I grab three spears and don the backpack. We situate ourselves at the beginning of the tunnel entering the maze.

"What do you think you are doing? We'll need more than that," I exclaim, pointing at the backpacks they are all holding.

"What do you want us to do?" Talon snaps back.

I narrow my eyes, "Bring whatever supplies you can from here to our camp? Now, go on."

All of them go back to the Cornucopia and begin picking up whatever they can except Zeo.

"Zeo? Remind me who is in charge here, it seems I have forgotten." I stomp my foot angrily.

He reluctantly saunters over to the others. I mean, I could help them, but I want to preserve all available energy. I see me not having to move anything as my reward for killing Harrison.

I am not too thrilled with the amount of deaths today. If I stayed where the games began, I could have made a few kills. The arena this year is rather interesting, though. What is the significance behind those arches? That's where everyone went, and that's where we're going tomorrow. I just have to figure out which one.

"Anything specific, Silver?" Fir inquires.

"No thank you, Fir," I say with a smile, "I have my essentials, now you get yours."

My allies are at their carrying capacity; therefore it's time to desert the Cornucopia and advance towards the other area. It's quiet the whole way there, with the infrequent socialization and the occasional drop of one of the supplies.

"Are we almost there yet?" Kaya palpitates.

"Would you like any help?" I say with an artificial smile.

She hands me a few backpacks and I hook them onto my belt. I have to get on the good side of at least two people. So when the time comes, I'll know who will come with me.

How long will this alliance adhere to each other is the question. We all have our favorite allies, don't we? Mine are Fir and Kaya easily. They do what I tell them to and don't complain, unlike Zeo and Talon. But I have to pretend to like all of them, to keep the betrayal to a minimum. Zeo is my District partner, so we already have a steady relationship. On the other hand, we have Talon. I will think of something that will make him adore me. Perhaps something regarding his coquettish mentality? I'll have him wrapped around my finger.

We finally arrive at the main hole. I put down my backpack and sit down on it.

Shrugging, I say, "Set up wherever."

Fir and Zeo set up a tent, each near a ladder; easy escape route. Kaya sets up near the entrance of the maze. Now I have to decide where to sleep. I see Talon setting up the largest tent we have in our possession. Talon is the first one to crawl into his tent. Zeo and Kaya then go into their tents, but Fir stays out, slashing at the air with a hatchet.

I stroll over to him. "Have any tips?"

"You've came to the right person," Fir vaunts.

He hands me his hatchet and gestures for me to swing at him. I raise it above my head, and he holds out his hand.

"Lower your hand, you'll be able to put more power into it," he informs.

He grabs a hatchet himself and we start skirmishing with them. A friendly skirmish, of course. Only a few minutes have passed and I hear Zeo's pesky voice.

"Some of us need our beauty sleep, you two."

I roll my eyes; oh please. I hand Fir back his hatchet and poke Talon's tent. His head pops out, with a questioning glint in his eye.

"May I?" I batter my eyelashes.

He broadens his shoulders out of annoyance, "I guess so."

I grab two blowgun darts and keep them in my pocket. You always have to be prepared for an attack. I rest my head on my backpack, but am startled by the start of the Capitol music.

I shake Talon, "Finally! The deaths!"

We both shove our heads out of the opening of the tent.

Talon rubs his eyes, "Let's see."

The first face to appear on the ceiling above is District Three's James Templesworth. How are those traps working out for you now, James? I knew you wouldn't have the common sense to do well in the games. You asked to join the Careers, for crying out loud! Did you actually think we'd accept you?

Next was Oceava Lac. Who could have possibly killed her? A Career! A fully-trained Career! It must have been someone with exceptional skill. The only plausible explanation is Rae.

She was followed by the faces of Dale Cash, Harrison Sigell, Derak Penfold, Tommy Dravna, and lastly, Ariella Satey.

Talon and I return back into the tent and lie back down. I cuddle up to the backpack and fix my hair.

I am not too surprised with the death of James, Dale, Harrison, Derak, Tommy, and Ariella, but Oceava's I am.

"Rae!" I blurt out, and Talon wakes up and impulsively grabs the sword neighboring him.

"Rae? What about her?" Talon inquires wearily.

"She is the only that could have possibly killed Oceava," I justify.

"Why are you dwelling on her death?" He says unenthused.

"She was a part of the alliance, wasn't she? Besides, you could be her next target," I say discourteously.

"Yeah, let's see how that works out for her. Go to bed, Silver, we will take care of her tomorrow."

Asinine imbecile, I think harshly.

I nestle my head in between his head and shoulder. He tries to roll over, but I grab his arm and push him back towards me. You're net getting away from me that easily.

He's right, though. I shouldn't dwell on her death at this instance. I will find Rae and personally kill her with my bare hands. She's on Silver's bad list now, and that's an unsought place. Watch your back, Rae; you never know what could happen next. Let's find out how you received that 10, shall we?

Have I impressed you enough Glitter, for you to regret saying those words to me? I volunteered for a reason. All I have ever wanted was for you to fully respect me, and possibly admire me at the same degree of my admiration for you.

I have been living in the shadow of my prestigious cousin, but now, the tides are turning.


	33. Day Four Morning

**Neon Edison, District Three Female**

**Day Four Morning**

_**District11-Olive**_

* * *

I sit hugging my knees, my feet one in front of the other to steady myself of the thin branch where I have spent the night. I have been up for what I presume to be hours, there was really no hope of me sleeping last night. From earlier Games I had understood that the tributes who made allies usually got the most sleep aside from the Career tributes, but I don't know what this girl's intentions are. Until I figure that out I will not be getting much sleep.

"You know that's really creepy," I flinch at the sudden noise that has cut through the beautiful quiet of the forest. My eyes snap up and I realize that I have been looking at my ally for who knows how long, I guess I was thinking too hard to notice what I was looking at.

"What?" I lock my eyes with hers and keep my voice steady to hide my quickened breath, I am still not used to being so close to someone out here. I have spent nearly three days hiding in this forest by myself, it was quiet, almost peaceful. Though as soon as I had begun to feel serene my thoughts had always returned to the reason for my being here, I am a tribute in the Hunger Games.

I had spent most of the light hours looking for food. I was able to easily remember the edible plants I had studied, though many others look foreign to me. A tree was marked in the more dense area of the forest, just fifty paces from a stream and high enough so that while I slept I could not be easily seen from the ground. The closest thing to what some would consider a home in here.

In the nights when I found sleep impossible I walked soundlessly through the trees, my light weight coming in handy for once. Most of the time I had just walked in the silence without seeing any indication that anyone else had ever been there before me. On some nights though I had seen the others, completely unaware of my presence within the dense bush. Hidden from direct sight but able to see every move they made.

From what I had seen in my journeys there were four other tributes in my area. There was an alliance of three with the District Six girl and Alexander and Maia whom I remember from training. I remember Maia's district partner too, he was the one who asked me to join his alliance. He was the one who always seemed to have a smile on his face despite the deadly situation we were all in. A light in a sea of darkness. He is dead now though. Dead in the Bloodbath which I never participated in. Dead like James who was killed the same day.

Dead and gone forever.

The very first night I spent in a large tree as far away from the entrance of the tunnel as physically possible. Nearly the entire day I had spent moving, the first few hours running and finally slowing down once I realized I would soon dehydrate if I continued at that pace. So I found a tree and tried my best to get comfortable, though I knew I would get no sleep that night. When the anthem had come on the sudden noise had nearly caused me to fall off the branch I had been perched on. The first face that greeted me when I looked into the dark night sky was James'. He was dead. That boy whom had helped me all those years ago was gone, he would return to his family in a sealed wooden box.

"_Why do you look sad?"_

_I looked up into the bright blue eyes of the boy who spoke so softly to me that I was sure only I could hear him. His soft pink lips formed a gentle smile and he sat down beside me on the street corner._

"_Nothing," I reply in a whisper and my eyes return to the hard grey pavement. _

"_I saw those girls picking on you," he says in a hushed tone and suddenly his eyes turn to a duller shade of blue and his features soften further, "what did they say to you?"_

_I swallow hard and stare into the cracks of the pavement. He won't understand, no one ever does. Yet still I feel the overwhelming urge to trust in him and believe that somewhere in the world there might be a person who cares enough to actually listen. I hope against my better judgement that this nice older boy will be the person to really, truly listen._

"_They called me a freak," I said so quietly that I didn't even think he would hear me, "because I don't look or act like them."_

_He seems to consider this for a long while, gazing at something far away with his wise eyes. Maybe I shouldn't have told him, maybe he will run away and tell everyone, maybe he will call me a freak as well. _

"_You're not a freak," he says finally and I look back up to see his gaze fixated on me with tears visible in his kind eyes, "they just don't understand you."_

That day stays engraved in my mind since it happened eight years ago. James has grown up and doesn't remember the tiny five year old whose life he changed but I will never forget him. He was the first person to tell me that it is okay to be different, because of him I got a job in the Lab at such a young age and skipped school levels. It was thanks to him that I stopped caring about the whispers I heard when I passed some of the kids in my district.

Once I stopped caring about what they thought of me they stopped teasing me, I became anonymous, I became the girl who no one knew. I became exactly who I wanted to be.

It was all thanks to that gentle eight year old with the kind blue eyes.

I sat lost in my thoughts for hours in that tree, remembering James and all the other tributes that I had barely known but still felt grief for. I spent time thinking like an outside person who was just watching the Games on television. It took me most of the night to convince myself of the one truth I had tried so hard to ignore. I was in the Hunger Games.

I was in the Hunger Games and I was still alive.

That was the thought that threw me the most, how was it that I had already outlasted eight other tributes, seven of which were older than me and all of which larger? It was because I didn't go into the hole that contained the Cornucopia, with all the weapons and food that give life in this arena. The only thing I had to do was stay away from all the others, and survive. Survival up until yesterday wasn't looking great for me. In the past few days I had barely eaten and I could feel the effects gnawing at my insides.

An ally, however, was something I hadn't expected. An-wei had supplies, she had a weapon and she was more than capable of using it. I had nothing but the black jumpsuit we had been given to wear.

"How you just stare at everything without blinking. You might try and work on that. Anyone with eyes would mark that as a weakness," An-wei says mechanically as she drops from each branch gracefully, eventually landing on solid ground. I scamper down the trunk in a slightly less routine way, but I make it to the ground in one piece nevertheless. She starts to walk away just before I reach the ground and I have to sprint to keep up with her long strides. Even with her being just two years older than me she surpasses me greatly in both strength and endurance.

"We have to do something big today. Something that will pull in sponsors, our food supply is dwindling now that there's another mouth to feed." I say nothing because she's right, maybe if she had remained by herself her supplies would have lasted much longer. With me being a liability to her she has a right to be angry. Though I never really wanted to join up with anyone, it had just kind of happened. I make a mental note to eat less that evening.

"Do you know where anyone else is in here?"

I nod, "there's an alliance of three in this area with us."

"What do you mean, in this area?" She stops and turns to face me, almost causing me to run into her.

"Each of the doors in the starting room is labelled with a number, one to twelve. We are in seven. I think it's meant to represent District Seven because it's a forest. I didn't see anyone else come in this area so they must be in one of the other ones," I explain quickly and her face turns pensive as she takes in the new information. I had thought the arena setup was fairly simple, the numbers above the doors and the forest landscape of this area had made it clear that this arena was to mimic the setup of the districts. The only thing I didn't understand was why the starting room was setup how it was. It was at the centre of the arena so for this particular year I would have expected something glorious and overwhelming to symbolize the Capitol. Instead it was a murky hole in the floor and tall archways. That was the only thing I couldn't seem to piece together, what was the motivation for that room?

"The alliance of three is made up of whom?" She asks and peers over her nose at me almost analytically. I am not used to being looked upon so thoroughly, usually I am glanced briefly upon before the viewer's gaze grows tired of me and searches for something more fascinating. An-wei and a few of the other tributes look at me in ways that make me feel exposed and watched. As if everything I do will lead them one step closer to claiming a prize. The only prize they could be looking for in here though is my head, I have to remember to be careful.

"Jade from Six, Maia from Eight, and Alexander from Ten," I reply automatically as I consider my ally. Except for a couple snide comments and the obvious dislike for my tendencies, An-wei doesn't seem to want to kill me. I could recognize the look in the people's eyes when they were looking for a head on a stick, I saw it in the Career's eyes even as they volunteered at the Reaping. Even a few of the outlying district tributes have the hideous glint in their eyes that is the unmistakable mark of a killer. So long as I don't see that in An-wei I will stay, not just for the food, though I am thankful to not just be eating roots and bark, but because I don't think I can make it by myself. Funny how just a few days ago I would have relished in the same solitude that I now fear.

"Interesting," she mumbles and says no more. I can almost see the gears turning in her head but all I can think of is that doing something could mean one of us dying. My strategy was to stay low and hope that somehow everyone forgot about me, my strategy was to _survive. _This girl has other plans though and she also holds in her small backpack all the supplies for the two of us to share. I have no choice but to follow her in silence and hope that whatever she's planning isn't too risky.

I reach my hand out to stop her and point forward with my other hand. She follows my finger with her eyes and proceeds to creep forward on the balls of her feet, making no more noise than the nonexistent wind. I follow behind her so closely that she startles at the feeling of my breath on her shoulder. She presses one finger to her lips, unnecessarily telling me that I must not make a sound. With a careful hand she pushes away some thin branches to reveal a small clearing, and the tributes that wait in it.

An-wei stares at the group for a while and I decide to do the same. The group seems to be in the same shape they'd been since I'd last seen them. No noticeable large wounds and a fairly limited amount of supplies for the three of them. One girl, Jade, sits a bit away from the other two who seem to be closer in relation to each other. That alliance had seemed somewhat divided even during training, the pair from Six ever so slightly separated from the other three. Now that he is gone Jade seems to have lost a bit of her edge. I don't even notice An-wei has disappeared from her place beside me until I feel a sharp tug on my arm and am pulled further and further into the forest in straight line, away from the trio.

"I have a plan," An-wei tells me and her eyes light up so that I can almost sense the ideas that must be floating around in her mind. "It's time to make ourselves more entertaining."

* * *

I skirt around the clearing with a single knife stashed in my palm, I can watch the three tributes from my place in the thick bushes but I know they cannot see me. An-wei's words dance around in my head until I feel like I'm going to be sick. I should have told her no, I should have showed her that it wasn't worth the risk. But deep down I know she's right, we have to make sure we don't become boring to the Capitol, show them that we are worth keeping around for a little bit longer.

I stop and crouch down lower into the bushes, silently counting down from ten in my head. When I reach zero I take a large twig from the ground and snap it loudly, causing three faces to turn towards me. Even though I know they cannot see me I fall deeper and deeper into the foliage. I look through a small hole in the green and see the boy begin to slowly push some supplies into a backpack. The two girls follow his lead, all the while keeping their eyes locked on the forest that surrounds them. The boy, Alexander , is the first to his feet. He begins walking towards where I crouch in the bush, the other two members of his alliance following tentatively.

I wish silently that they will turn and head off in some other way, not this way, any other way but this one. They don't redirect their path though and as they draw closer I prepare the knife in my hand and aim at a tree that stands ten feet in front of me, the alliance standing between us. They are only a few feet from blocking my view of the tree when I let my knife fly. Not towards the tributes but towards the thick bark of the tree.

Maia lets out a scream that echoes in my ears and forced me to press harshly onto them until I fear that I may be breaking open my skull. I watch the three of them turn tail and begin sprinting in the direction away from me, Jade taking the lead this time.

A thin blade slices through the air and lands itself in Jade's temple, causing her to cease running and topple over, a cannon echoing through the trees almost immediately. She lands on the side of her head where the knife lays entombed in her skull and the blade disappears as it pushes farther and farther into the girl's head. Blood begins to ooze out of her mouth and the sockets of her forever open eyes. The once distinguishable brown of her hair is dyed a dark crimson and sticks to her head like glue. The top of the blade is visible on the up-facing side of her head and I can't look any longer. I turn my head to the side and empty the sad contents of my stomach onto the dirt below me.

The other two of her alliance members leave her without so much as a backwards glance, crashing through the trees like something was on fire. Too concerned with their own lives to worry about the fallen girl.

I bring my knees up to my chest and hug my arms around them, suddenly cold even in the direct sunlight. All I could think about was that she didn't deserve any of this. She was only a couple years older than me, if that. I allow my breathing to slow again and stare at the dirty forest floor until a harsh shake awakens me from my blank thoughts.

"We did it." An-wei smiles down at me but her eyes don't carry the same inquisitive glow that I remember from last night. Maybe this girl knows it too, that what we did was wrong. Maybe I am not the only one that can see the darkness taking over all of us, forcing us to bow down to the Capitol's wishes.

I nod my head almost imperceptibly and she turns to walk away without another word. I stand quickly and scamper after her, having to nearly sprint to catch up to her long strides. When I do I see that she is carrying the throwing knife that I painfully remember being stuck in the head of the District Six girl. She absentmindedly wipes the fresh, bright red paint off the blade but it just manages to stain her shirt with the new blood.

We walk along in silence, stopping a couple hours later to gather some berries we had found in a cluster of bushes. I remembered seeing them during training, blackberries I believe they had been called. Harmless and rather tasty as well. We each eat a few and An-wei packs the rest away in the backpack.

That was the only thing that bothered me about this partnership. If it were to end right now I would be left with nothing, everything we had worked to gather and everything that I had collected in my few days alone were in that pack. All I had to my name right now was the clothes I wear and the knowledge that someday soon, one of us was going to die.


	34. Day Five Morning

**Azura-Jay Dennis, District Four Male**

**Day Five Morning**

_**Blue Eyes Arch Angel**_

* * *

_Bring me home in a blinding dream_

_Through the secrets that I have seen_

_Wash the sorrow from off my skin_

_Show me how to be whole again_

* * *

This is sick.

This is seriously sick.

One year of mourning. 4 years of holding in heartache. Six years sending children off to die. Fourteen years of darkness. Seventeen years of hell.

Through everything I've had to endure for all these painstakingly torturous years, every single nightmare and false kindness, I should have been able to handle this. This should have been a way to clear my conscious, wipe the slate clean and forget everything I've left behind. But time and time again, the people of the capitol have demonstrated just why they are to be feared and not messed with. At every given opportunity, just somehow they've found ways bring back memories of 'him' and have tried to push me closer to others. If they had just let me be then such a simple bloody task like this wouldn't have been so difficult.

Their first missile was this arena. The very first and only thing I could hear once those platforms were raised was the familiar sound of gushing water. Echoes of strong waves crashing on shore. Who knew that could reduce someone to the brink of fear. I remember my legs locking instantly, like being frozen in time, in a memory. I was home. I was there, on shore, feet sinking into the hot sand of the beach. Small, weaker foaming waves tickling at my toes. A salty, tangy breeze brushing my locks, whipping the bangs back in front of my face. Someone brushes them away. And again, my heart stops but for a different reason. Then the peace is shattered by the distinct cries of gulls.

But the cries faded into screams. Before I knew it, the countdown had already ended and all chaos had broken loose. My reactions must have been instant. I found myself sprinting at top speed towards wherever the memory was taking me. The only thing that followed behind were the echoes of seven cannons. Seven less worries.

And one scream.

One feminine scream, with the essence of shock, fear and anger that their ultimate demise was too sudden-

No. I still don't want to believe it.

Oceava didn't die.

No, she is still out there, with those bloodthirsty careers somewhere, slowly stalking down other vulnerable tributes one by one. Yes, she's still there, as strong as ever.

These tears are not out of sadness, but from laughing; I believed she was dead for a moment.

Yes…

It's ironic how emotional bonds can break spirits.

Since the first seven, the death toll has risen to ten. Nearly half of my worries have faded. Instead though, where the worries of tributes have vanished this has been replaced by terror. Every second sitting here only adds to the tension. Who knows, any moment now those three other tributes could discover and kill me.

I choke out a couple of sobs. I sound so pathetic, but I'm finding it hard to care anymore. Somehow I wish they would just find me already and end this. They're not idiots I'll admit that but somehow they can't see me sat soaking in the shallow waters in the cornered off area. If I'm right with their voices, Zedock, Alyssa and Erina are still scoping around the place. It's no challenge in this part of the arena though to survive. From what I've felt around it's all shallow water and sand. However, someone has died here. It must have been Winter, as she had quite an innocent voice, which was emitting moans of pain which I could even hear from across area. These died away some time ago alongside the girl's soul. I just wish that could've been me. It's a wonder really how I've actually had the will to live this long. I was able to chance upon some driftwood on my first day which, with my fishing expertise from back in the district, I was able to use for stabbing and killing fish that had been lurking in the waters. It's surprising actually that after seventeen years I'm still not sick of the taste of fish. Another little taste of home.

With care I let a small sigh escape my lips. I fall back roughly to lie down. Water splashes upon my disturbance, soaking my clothes and hair. I really don't care though. I could just lay here and drown. I could easily put my head under right now and let myself become asphyxiated, dying a slow torturing death, perfect for a tortured soul. This thought crosses my mind a few times. Every time I do though, different names flash into my memory. All those I'd be leaving behind.

Brook is probably not watching; she's probably twiddling her hair or drawing pretty little pictures. Oceava always complained about that. If she is watching I hope she's kicking herself and wishing she'd done more to help us. She's such a fool, she hasn't even been able to get any sponsor gifts to me so far (thanks to her lack of charm and ability to talk intelligently). I'm surviving on fish alone with a rotting piece of driftwood. I know this is pointless but even so some hot food would be useful. But no, we were stuck with the idiot that just got lucky. It's like a joke to think that she's supposed to be a career.

I bet 'sweet' Roxanne is with her too, no doubt yelling at Brook to pay attention or not paying attention herself because she's screaming at an avox for messing up her tea or something idiotic. I truly hate her. That's something I'm not afraid to admit. She's a prime example of someone who hides behind a false image. On stage or television she always acts so sweet, innocent and kind but as soon as she took us to the train she began her strict rules and insults every five minutes. Not to mention she has a stupidly high whiny voice that nearly made my ears bleed. I was partially grateful to get the games after that. I remember during our first couple of days Oceava used to do nearly perfect impressions of her which I'll admit were kinda funny.

Oceava…

I don't know where she is right now but I actually hope to hell she's safe. She wasn't like the other careers. At some points, though she was arrogant, she was neither cold nor false like the other damn members of her alliance of which I truly despise. Every word she uttered had an honest and realistic sense to it. Even nicknaming me 'Shark'. I can see the truth in that. She deserves her nickname of 'Piranha' too. Small but vicious, the youngest of the careers. With an attitude like hers I'm sure she'll live through this. She's the only one that deserves to win now.

'_I forgive you'_

Three words she knew I didn't want to hear but she said them anyway. That took guts. Guts and honesty. I only know one other person who has demonstrated those traits. I can't even bring myself to say his name anymore. I can't tell whether I feel like I don't deserve to or whether I just hate saying it. Yet every moment his cheery voice is ringing through my head, but not through my ears. It's been weeks since I've last heard it. I need it. Badly. It's like a drug. My skin is crawling and dying with the need to be touched. I need him to wake me up. Only he can bring me forth from this nightmare.

"Spritz…"

Oh fine, I dared to say his name. I don't care. I want him here, right now. I don't want to admit that I love him, not just yet. I just only wish he could hear me, just so I could tell him

"Sprit Seegall, you're an idiotic loveable creepy ball of sunshine"

Hell, I did just say that. If he was here he'd crush me with his muscular (but warm) arms and cry 'Aww that's the cutest thing you've ever said to me!' in that irritating, addictively camp voice of his. Weakly, my hand trembles and raises high. No-one helps me up though. They crash down instantly and before I know it I've got hot tears streaming down my face, piercing the salty water my body lays in. I choke, I sob, I scream out in anguish. I must look pathetic so I cover my tear stained face, which is rather pointless considering the scarf that's still covering my eyes, yet I just cannot bring myself to remove it now. I still can't stand for my eyes to be seen. My hands slide down and clasp around my arms, pulling up my knees to my chest so I'm curled into a small ball. I lay like this for God only knows how long, sobbing like a pathetic child. I just want to sleep, but the ache in my heart and his soft, gentle voice just won't let my soul be.

_Why do you always wallow in self-pity?_

My brother's old words whisper in the back of my head.

_You and I both know you can be so much stronger than this._

Conch-Lark was always an idiot too. That's why he volunteered. That's why he's dead. Not like 'dear' mother and father did anything to help. No, they completely shunned him after death and focused on me. They weren't idiots. They just weren't human. They would have passed perfectly as being from the capitol. If I died here they'll probably forget about me too. Well, forget about me again.

The tears have stopped flowing now. My cries have silenced, though my chest still badly aches. I try to sustain my focus on my slow, ragged breathing just so I can keep myself sane for a few minutes. Just when I think I am at peace a horrific thought crosses my mind.

What if the other tributes just heard that?

Damn, if they heard that they could be following the sound here this very moment. If so then I probably only have a short time until my inevitable death. The waterworks start up again as the thought of dying so soon reminds me I never would have gotten to say 'sorry'. It's not fair.

But then again, life isn't fair. I breathe out a heavy sigh.

Something swishes itself around my foot. Probably another fish. Good timing really; I was starting to get hungry. To prove that fact my stomach lets out a quiet rumble. With much pain due to exhaustion, I haul myself up into sitting position and grab the piece of driftwood lying beside me. With a sigh a strike down the driftwood with strong might and stab the moving object floating about my feet. However, something still winds its way around in the water. But, I just killed it…didn't I?

I stab at it again, this time harder but yet I still feel movement. A chill runs up my spine as I try desperately to figure out what the hell is moving. I stab again and again but more and more does the movement increase. This is actually starting to scare me now. It reminds me of an old nightmare I had a while back; just something moving.

Closer

Closer

And ever closer.

Until it had grabbed me from behind and everything faded from black to nothing. That night I had woken up screaming, fraught with fear and distress-

Something wet clamps around my leg. With great reluctance I reach down with violently shaking hands to touch whatever has me in its grip.

It's soft, wet…and pulsing.

It moves.

I scream just like I did that night.

In a flash the pulsing object seems to thrash out as something squishy bashes me in the face. Other pulsating things coil themselves like snakes around each of my frozen limbs, holding myself high in the air. From the feel of the strange things ensnaring me I conclude this is some disgusting squid like mutation the game-makers have thrown in to end my pitiful moaning. That and to add an 'entertaining' twist for the capitol crowd. These people really make me sick.

The thing holding me tightens its grip on its strange limbs which shoots a sharp pain through each of my legs and arms until it reaches my chest, causing absolute agony. I want to scream again but my sound is halted due to a lack of breath. Every essence of energy suddenly seemed to flow from my body. Now I just felt like a rag doll. I felt pathetic again. I guess this is my fault for having a death wish, and it seems I was right about my inevitable death, but it just came from a different cause. The squid like mutt slowly snakes another tentacle up my chest and (unsure of whether this was intentional or not) under my shirt until it reached my neck. At this point I felt utterly helpless.

It was strange though. It was like all my dark desires were becoming a reality at once. However, had this been in the past I probably would have embraced and loved this strange, erotic feeling.

But I'm scared. Not just because of the situation, but because my thoughts are clouded, they aren't the simple hates I used to live by.

What's wrong with me?

The tentacle creeps its way around my neck. Any second now it will begin cutting off my oxygen and there's nothing I can do. A few hot tears fall down my cheeks. Slowly I close my eyes tightly shut, accepting and waiting patiently for the death that's about to be thrust upon me.

But then from the deepest depths, hope shines a light.

In my open hand something cold, metallic and sharp nestles itself comfortably. My weak fingers clasp themselves around the hilt and my heart must have stopped because with sudden happy realisation it turned out to be a knife. A sharp, deadly, beautiful knife.

If I could speak to Brook right now I'd take back every single insult to her intelligence I ever thought or muttered. She couldn't have given me anything more fantastic. If I could laugh, I would.

With the little energy I could muster, my left arm ripped itself forcefully from the grip of the slimy tentacle and trust the knife cleanly through, slicing it off. I hear it splash in water below, provoking a mad grin to form on my face. The tentacle ensnaring my neck recoils slightly. This gives me the opportunity the slash at that too, freeing my neck and allowing me to the chance to breathe. The squid thing does not seem to bode well with this, as more tentacles lash at my body. I give out a few grunts and groans as I keep slashing and slicing at each one I feel hit my body. This isn't enough though. I need to silence this beast for good. I cut at one more tentacle which causes me to fall and crash in the shallow waters. I step back and silence myself for a moment. My senses focus on the breathing and the heartbeat of the squid thing. I listen closer. There's a faint beating somewhere lower down towards the ground .Eventually my senses hone in on where I estimate is the heart. My fingers close tighter on the knife's handle. It's now or never. I draw a deep breath.

"COME AND GET IT!"

Then I run. I run with all my strength and speed, hurling myself blindly forward at what I think is the bell of the beast. Shortly my knife finds itself lodged in something squidgy. Thick liquid (blood assumingly) drips down the knife, through my fingers, splashing like raindrops. A low growl emanates from the beast. Its body becomes limp. My fingers wind away from the knife for a moment.

Once again, everything goes silent for me. I try to regulate my breathing and understand what I've just done.

I killed it. I killed the beast.

I feel…powerful.

There's laughter. Mad laughter. Then I realise it's me.

I'm laughing. Why?

I'm…alive. And I'm glad.

I'm happy even, and I can be assured that I'm not the only one.

Brook is probably feeling smug about the knife. Roxanne must be bragging to the other escorts about my victory. Spritz must be overjoyed and greatly relieved.

I hear a faint buzzing behind my back. I twist and walk back to the arena wall. My hand runs along the wall until it feels something glassy. There's a camera here; it must have been filming that entire scenario. Damn camera, but this is a good opportunity.

"Take that as a lesson Panem. Never dare to underestimate me"

With that I shatter the camera with my fist. I laugh madly again. That's right, I'm not to be underestimated. There are a few certain people that know that. I wander back over the beast and dislodge my knife from its flesh. Voices ring out in the distance. A grin spreads across my face. My feet begin moving and I start stalking in their direction. The rest of Panem now knows my strength. It's time for them to learn too. I'll prove myself to them, to those closest.

For Brook

For Oceava

For Conch-Lark

And specifically for Spritz, I remove the scarf around my eyes. I know he'd want to see my eyes one last time if I were to die here.

But I also want the world to see these eyes now. I want them see, remember and fear them.

These are the eyes that will shatter the glassy tension.

These are the eyes of a madman.

* * *

_Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass_

_Hardly anything left there for you to see_

_For you to see_


	35. Day Eight Evening

**Silver Hartford, District One Female**

**Day Eight Evening**

_**Cashmere67**_

* * *

Despite this zone's habitual noises, which are usually from savage muttations the Capitol developed, it is precariously tranquil. The utter silence is soothing and assuaging. We are all appeased by self-indulgences; Zeo is oscillating his head nonchalantly, Fir is gazing in awe at the quality of his axe, and I am braiding my hair attentively. Compared to previous days, this placidness is factitious. Although the calm before the storm is foreboding, I shall relish the tranquillity there is — that is until the Gamemakers decide to induce a conundrum again.

I hear Zeo inhale, and then exhale. From the corner of my eye, I notice him stroking his throat and then open his mouth.

"Guess what day it is?" He purrs in a flamboyant tone.

I press my palm against my forehead and begin shaking my head. Is singing necessary right now?

"It's Fir-day," he rolls his tongue with the letter 'r'. "Fir-day!"

"What is Fir-day?" I ask, attempting to hold back laughter.

"Is he serious?" Fir mumbles, sounding exasperated by Zeo's voice.

He points to Fir, "It's a day to admire Fir! Now sing with me, Silver!"

"No, no, it's okay. You have this under control," I bite my lip, still attempting to hold back laughter.

"Suit yourself," he says, still in a flamboyant tone. "It's Fir-day, Fir-day, gotta' admire Fir on Fir-day!"

Fir grabs ahold of my arm, "This is driving me insane. You need to tell him to be quiet."

I turn towards Zeo who is wiggling his fingers in a steady motion, "Zeo. The joke's over; be quiet now."

He ignores me and continues to sing. I slide the knife out of my boot and hold it upwards toward the light. The light reflects off of the blade, directly into Zeo's eyes. He covers his eyes and begins choking on his own saliva.

"I said be quiet, Zeo," I slip the knife back into my boot.

He continues to mouth the words of his 'creative' song.

I lick my lips and notice they're dry; indicating that I am dehydrated. I get a canteen from my backpack and begin to purposely slurp the water out of it.

The games have taken their toll on us emotionally and physically. The food that was supplied at the Cornucopia will suffice, but it's nothing like the food back in the Capitol, or even District 1 for that matter. I haven't had a good-night's sleep in a while either, since I constantly have my guard up. You never know when a muttation could come, or even another tribute. We have gotten into a few diatribes, which results in me being the more mature person in the group and breaking it up.

The games have also taken their toll on the tributes, especially this alliance. We are down to only Zeo, Fir, and me. But, in total, there are eight of us left; me, Zeo, Fir, the creep from District 3, the weakling from District 5, my beloved Rae, and the peasants from District 10.

The Careers – which consist of Zeo, Fir, and me – are evidently the most robust left in this competition. Zeo and I have been trained, and ironically, are both relatives of past victors. I deem myself much more exceptional than Zeo, simply because, well, I'm me. Zeo, on the other hand, isn't me; he's not as strong, intelligent, and cunning as me. Breaking away from him will be the challenging part for me. Even though I'm not too fond of his presence, he still is from my District, and I do feel obligated to at least show some compassion towards him.

Then we have the female from District 3, Neon. Her name's ironic, isn't it? Neon lights are usually bright and ostentatious. She, on the other hand, is basically the opposite; she's timorous, gawky, and peculiar, to say the least. I should have killed her in the Bloodbath if I was aware she would make it this far. What could she do, that I can't do better? The answer's nothing. So do enlighten me with the reason why she's still alive? Was it her intelligence that got her this far? Or her 'observant' perspective? She'll die soon enough, and that's all that matters. Although, I do prefer having her survive than that pathetic 'male' from her District – what was his name? Jimmy? Jake? Pathetic either way. Let's quit this childish game of Hide-and-seek, Neon. Olly, olly, oxen free.

Alyssa Wright in the final eight, who would have ever guessed that? Not me, that's for sure. Just another one of those tributes that was lucky enough to make it out of the Bloodbath. Ever since that girl, Kristina, has been crowned victor, District 5 hasn't produced anymore, and I will make sure to keep that 'legacy' going. I might as well check her off of the list of who is competition; I presume her demise will occur in the next day or two. She's just wasting time by attempting to her save her pitiful life from the inevitable outcome – death.

Fir Hertwig; the Career-like asset of this alliance. It's always good to have diversity in an alliance, even if he's from an Outer-District. Well, that is, until we must depart from one another. He is a tad handsome, but I cannot allow myself to be concerned with a 15 year old from District 7. He has been acting weird lately, not just towards a single person, but towards the whole alliance. I don't think too much of it because then that will make me seem weak; if I feel that he will betray us, I will be much more attentive with everything. I must abide with my nonchalant, Career-like personality until I win these games. Fir will certainly be the tribute I will regret losing the most; not Zeo, Kaya, or even Talon.

Rae, Rae, Rae. Silly Rae; actually thinking you could receive a training score of 10, and then actually win these games? You made my alliance look like a bunch of weaklings, and that's Neon's and Alyssa's job to look like weaklings, not ours. Just thinking about you makes my blood pressure rise. You do realize why your parents abandoned you, right? You were repulsive, meaningless, and pesky. I hope you keep that in mind when I'm removing the spear from your dead body. Prior to my victory, I will personally kill you, and then make sure to keep a piece of your hair. After I win, I will return home with the last remaining part of your piteous body, and it will be exploited in front of District 1, and then burned, just to reassure you that crossing paths with me was a big mistake.

Then there are the peasants; Peasant 1, Erina, and Peasant 2, Alexander. How did they even make it past the first 5 minutes of the games? You sordid, indigent, and hideous souls. Don't you have livestock to tend to? You shouldn't be wasting your time attempting to actually win these games; that's a Career's responsibility. You would make everything so much easier for me if you would just consume some Tracker Jacker venom. District 10 will most certainly be aware of my name after their tributes die; just because they're existence bothers me so much, I will make sure to have my future tributes kill the tributes from District 10 immediately. So mentors, if you're watching these games, you better devise new ideas to help your tributes avoid District 1's wrath. The two of you are lucky, though, because you aren't number one or two on the 'Silver must kill list'.

The Career alliance has faced some casualties, such as Oceava, but more importantly Kaya and Talon.

Kaya Andora, or 'Scorch' in my eyes. Her nickname 'Scorch' is self-evident; she enjoys fire and anything relevant to fire. I will also remember your name, Kaya. I truly thought you would do better than that, simply because of your training score and your pyromanic mentality. Unfortunately, she brought it upon herself, though. She just had to stop and attempt to set the mutts on fire, didn't she? It was nice having her in the alliance, but everything happens for a reason.

Then we have Talon, who was labeled as the 'Caveman'. I truly admire my own creativity. I mean, who else would have thought of such nicknames? On another note, the 'Caveman' was killed by Rae. Now that's two Careers, Rae. That's two too many that should have died by the hands of you. You're basically asking for it – for me to kill you personally, that is.

I mean, I knew Kaya and Talon wouldn't last that long, but I thought they would make it further than Zeo. Zeo has been really getting on my nerves lately, to be honest. I have been falling asleep pondering on the ways I could skin his pretty face.

The Careers have been in this laboratory for a few days, and it's becoming tedious. We haven't found too many tributes; none that have had an enjoyable demise to witness, anyway.

We come across a room, and I decide it's time to rest for the night.

I point to the room, "We will sleep here. It's getting late, anyway, and there's not much more we can do here."

The three of us walk in, but there's nowhere really to sleep. It's not the biggest room, but it will work for the night. Tomorrow, we will find another place to sleep, I guess. Also, the lights are dim in the room, but everything is still visible.

Zeo sits down on a medical table, and Fir searches through the lockers behind it.

"Find anything?" I asked.

Fir continues searching through the lockers, ignoring my question completely.

"Find anything?" I repeat, adding emphasis on my words.

"Speak up," Zeo snaps.

"Clean the shit out of your ears. I said no," Fir declares.

Zeo flips his hair in disgust, "Excuse me? You have the nerve-"

"Shut it you abominable dolts," I interrupt, "Now is not the time for an argument."

Zeo makes a face behind and then laughs to himself, "Whatever. He's not worth my time."

He's not worth your time? Then who is, Zeo, who is. Your fans? Are they worth your time? They won't even care about you after your death. You will just join the list of the other District 1 tributes that have also perished in these games.

"What's your problem?" I tilt my head back, and lean it against the wall behind me.

"Well-" he begins, but I cut him off.

"It was rhetorical. I couldn't care less about your problems."

Zeo narrows his eyes and moves his hand in an impolite gesticulation. Fir rolls his shoulders and continues looking through the lockers.

I lean my spear against the wall and look for somewhere to sit. There is a metal chair in the corner, but when I sit down, I instantly get the chills. The chair's freezing, so I sit on my sleeping bag, but it doesn't help much.

Minutes go by with seldom conversation. I grab the night-goggles in my backpack and put them on. I lean my head back, and look at everything in the room. Of course, you have to be in the dark to see with these, so the light glares on them, blinding my vision temporarily.

When I take my goggles off, I see Fir lift up the war axe he's been using, angling it for a position to strike Zeo's back. I hold out my hand, and Fir scowls at my gesture.

Zeo narrows his eyes, "What?"

Why should I help him? I'm glad someone is finally going to do something. It's not my fault I feel pity for him; if I kill him, his family will despise my family, but on the other hand, if he dies now, that's one less person in this competition. I take the canteen out of my backpack and roll it to Zeo.

"Do you need any?" I say, grinning.

He bends down to get it, making his back even more vulnerable. I turn my head to the side and grab my belongings. The sound of Fir's axe embedding itself in Zeo's back makes me cringe. Zeo shrieks and grabs his quarter-staff.

"You little shit!" He screeches, desperately swinging behind him, attempting to hit Fir.

Fir promptly yanks the axe out of Zeo's back and grabs a backpack. He swiftly runs out of the room, leaving me and Zeo alone. Zeo feebly stands up, and the two of us make eye contact, probably for the last time.

I wink, "Better you than me."

"It could be both of us," he raises his quarter-staff above my head. "After I take care of Fir, you're next, princess."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Go to hell, Silver," Zeo manages to spit out, while coughing up some blood.

"Just as long as you won't be there, Zeo," I pucker my lips and shimmy my shoulders.

"Fuck you."

"You have to take me to dinner first," I say flirtatiously, obviously angering him even more.

"Watch yourself," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around his lower stomach.

"What are you going to do me, Zeo? Serenade me to death? I'll give you a few minutes to think of a song," I roll my eyes, and wave my hand, gesturing it's time for him to go.

"How creative, Silver. I thought you could have come up with something much wittier," Zeo grabs the door knob, attempting to keep his body standing straight.

"Does it matter? The longer you stay here, the more blood you're losing."

He shakes his head, "I'll be back, don't you worry."

"It was nice meeting you, Zeo. It truly was quite the experience. But when I return home, I'll let your fans know you died an admirable death," I sneer in a sarcastic tone.

He looks down to his feet, to see himself standing in a pool of blood. He turns his back and begins to chase Fir down the hallway. I hear him shout several curses, and I even think I hear Fir laughing.

"Toodaloo! I will be waiting for our battle, Zeo!" I jape, waving at them.

I saunter out of the room and proceed down the hallway opposite of where they went. There's a room, not too big, but it will suffice for the night. I slide the knife out of my boot and begin smashing the door knob with the handle of it. The door knob falls off, and I slip into the room, shutting the door behind me. I sit down, and lean against a locker.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Could that be a sponsor gift?

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The beeping becomes louder and louder, and then the sound of metal dropping against the floor rings through the whole hallway. I slide myself over to the door, to see a metal container attached to a parachute. I reach my hand out of the room and grab it, trying not to reveal my location.

I open the container, to see a note and something wrapped in cloth. When the note is revealed, my eyes go directly to the signature on the bottom; it's Glitter.

Dear Silver,

You missed Blue's 1st birthday and his first word. But, when you return home I guess we can celebrate it again.

- Glitter

P.S. His first word was 'Silver'.

I remove the cloth, to find a picture frame, containing a picture of my family and Glitter's family. This was taken after Glitter's victory. I laugh at my expression; my eyes are staring daggers at Glitter's head. Why was I so ungrateful? Something wonderful happened to my family, and I reacted by deterring Glitter.

Blue – Glitter's brother and my cousin. I never thought much about him, because if anything did happen to me, he'd wonder where I was. I assume it would be challenging to tell an infant that your cousin won't return because she is dead. Glitter always said that Blue would never volunteer for the games. I wouldn't think he would want to; he has a victor for a sister, and a soon to be victor for a cousin.

I let out a short giggle, reminiscing of the time Glitter and I took Blue to the training center.

From the corner of my eye I notice Blue grabbing a throwing knife from the rack. I smirk, and Glitter scolds me for it.

"What are you laughing at?" She inquires, stomping her foot angrily.

Still laughing, I say, "Nothing."

"When you can't avoid an arrow, don't come complaining to me!" She snaps.

I point my finger at Blue and Glitter shoots me a glare.

"He could have died! Silver, tell me next time!"

She grabs the knife from Blue's hand, and wiggles a finger at him. Blue attaches himself to her leg, and she picks him up and then places him on the chair next to me. He sticks out his tongue, and makes a silly noise. I rub my hand through his hair and give him the bracelet I was wearing.

"See? He's starting at young age," I banter.

"He will never be a part of these horrid games," she says reassuringly. "Never."

"Why? You could make the Dasher family go down in history for having sibling victors."

Her face goes emotionless. "It's not always about impressing someone, Silver .Why should I care what Panem thinks, anyway?

I've done enough for them by winning."

I bite my lip, attempting to think of something to retort back.

"Now, back to training…"

I clutch the picture frame in my hands, and place it against my chest. I close my eyes, attempting to fall asleep, but my thoughts are preventing any rest.

Remind me again why you volunteered, Silver?

Solely because of arrogance, ingratitude, and self-pity.

Or was it to prove yourself worthy of Glitter's admiration?

At first it was, but…

No buts, Silver. Do whatever it takes to return home.

Then what? Where will I go from there?

What would you do if you didn't volunteer?

Live under Glitter's shadow.

So, you don't care for these games anymore? If not, commit suicide, then?

I do. I truly do, but…

You ruined another girl's chances of volunteering; who could have also been the victor. You're a disgrace, Silver.

I jolt up, and lean my head against my hands. The tears are now streaming down my face and a few droplets place themselves on the jumpsuit. I grab my backpack, and emphatically throw the picture frame into it.

I wipe my face, and realize something; the Capitol can see me right now. This is not what a District 1 tribute should look like.

I grab the backpack and the neighboring spear, and proceed back into the hallway. I can't fall asleep, anyway, because of all of these thoughts in my mind.

I wander through the hallways, randomly making right and left turns. I should walk more circumspectly now, though. I am on my own, with no alliance. I guess that's beneficial; now I don't have to worry about any betrayal, from either Fir or Zeo.

I wonder how Zeo's injury is doing. The injury from Fir's axe looked fatal. Perhaps I'll run into them somewhere in the laboratory, and then I'll finish one of them off.

I hold the ring on my hand up to the light; it truly is a fine piece of craftsmanship. It's a wonderful though to know that Glitter trusted me with the ring she received after her victor. It was from the President, so obviously it's important.

I poke each window I pass with my spear out of utter boredom. Can't something exciting happen? I have to redeem myself to the Capitol after my emotional outburst.

I hear the screeching of Zeo's pesky voice again, but I presume they are on the floor above me. The sounds are muffled, but his pitched voice travels through the floor. Why is he still chasing after Fir? You're injured, what do you expect to do?

I descend a flight of stairs, hoping to see someone at the bottom. I near the bottom and lower my head, attempting to get a better view without revealing myself. I see a shadow that looks to be the figure of someone. I might as well go check it out, nothing else is happening.

I slip the spear back into my backpack and equip myself with the knife from my boot. I tread closer and closer to the shadow, and begin to taunt whoever is there.

"Who's this? Are you one of the peasants from 10?" I jeer, but there is no response. "Or the creep from District 3?"

I arrive at the shadow, and begin slashing in front of me. I look on the blade, and to my astonishment, there is no blood. The shadow was merely a chair with a lab coat entangled throughout it. I crumple the lab coat into a ball and step on it a few times. The lab coat now has a layer of dirt from my boot on it, and I can't help myself but attack it even more. I get on my knees and begin slashing at it, making holes in it.

"Of course. Zeo, Fir-" Cringing, I turn around to silence.

I forgot that the alliance is over. I'm glad it wasn't me who got attacked, though. Good for Fir; finally showing what he is capable of. I'm sure his District is proud of him at this moment, for making it this far. District 7 won the 1st Hunger Games, which might have seemed promising for District 7. They probably thought they could produce more than one victor, but unfortunately, he has been the only one.

I hear a squawk, and turn around to see a black and crested bird hovering above me. It's a jabberjay; mutts that were created by the Capitol to spy on the rebels during the Dark Days.

I point my spear at it, and it twitches its head back and forth. It's big, black eyes stare directly into mine. I grunt, and it flaps its wings.

"Arrogance can be a big problem," the jabberyjay chirps.

"Glitter," I mumble, remembering the night of the interviews.

"Volunteering was a big mistake," the jabberyjay chirps again.

"Shut up!" I scream and begin sprinting down the hallway.

"I hate what you've become, Silver."

What? It only mimics what others have said. Has Glitter really said that? It can't be true… It can't be.

I stop amidst of my sprinting and turn around. I raise the spear and quickly launch it at the bird. It penetrates the bird's stomach, ultimately killing it. It squawks one last time, and it falls to the ground, making a 'thud' sound that echoes throughout the hallway. One of the feathers lands near my feet, and I pick it up. The feather is soft and has a wondrous texture.

I feel nauseous now, and I'm knocking into things here and there. Halfway through the hallway, my body is evidently abating in energy and I feel myself becoming very weary. There is a small closet, where I situate myself in. There's a single light that barely lights up the room and a small window in it. In attempts to shake out the previous events of tonight, the thoughts still recollect in my mind. I attempt to rest my eyes, but then I hear a knock on the window above me.

"Oh please, Silver. Grow up," I hear an unknown and puerile voice.

I angle my head upwards and notice who it is – Rae. Really, Panem? Now is when you allow for the two of us to meet? I push myself up and press my face against the glass.

"Once I find a way in there, you're dead," Rae begins banging on the window with a knife.

I step backwards and poke the glass, "Good luck, Rae. It seems the glass is impenetrable."

She ignores my remark, "Where's your alliance?"

"That's classified information. Now why don't you run off?" I kiss the window, leaving a mark in the shape of my lips.

"You're asking for it, you know? You're lucky I'm not in there."

"Mhm; now let me sleep. You're wasting my precious time," I flip my hair and turn around.

I sit down, but she keeps banging on the window with her knife. She attempts to carve a hole in it with the blade of the knife, but it doesn't even make a scratch. I shoo Rae away by waving my hand, and she scowls at my gesture.

She hesitantly backs up, "I'll make a guest appearance in your nightmares tonight, Silver."

With that, she disappears. I cautiously look up one more time to make sure she's gone. The room on the opposite side of the window is pitch black, with nobody in it.

My life wasn't supposed to turn out like this, was it? I should have never volunteered. I could have become a fashion designer, a perfumer, or even a head trainer at the training academy. My family, who had probably stopped watching the games a few minutes ago, is probably reserving an area to bury my body already.

When Zeo said 'princess', I can't help but think that everyone deems me as just that, and nothing more. At this moment, though, being a princess does sound excellent. Servants, who will do everything I order them to, and jesters, who will incessantly entertain me. Why can't my life have a happy ending like all of those fairy tales?

I slump against the wall, attempting to hold back my tears. Today just isn't my day, now is it? I can't make a fool of myself in front of the Capitol again. I throw my backpack against the door and lay down on the cold, cement floor. I curl up in a ball and close my eyes. As I begin to drift off, I unintentionally whisper something out,

"I kind of hate me too."


End file.
